


Never Walk Alone

by natsora



Series: The Sword and The Scabbard [3]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Amputation, Anchor Pain, Angst, Blood, F/F, Fever, Hurt/Comfort, Hypothermia, In Your Heart Shall Burn, Medieval Surgery, Medieval medical practises, Pre-Relationship, Violence, Whump, injures, medical inaccuracy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:35:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21576922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/natsora/pseuds/natsora
Summary: Closing the breach is supposed to be the hardest thing Trev had to do. But  when a strange boy arrives with a warning, an army of Red Templars and the Elder One on his heels, Trev is faced with the hardest choice of all. Is she the hero everyone seems to think she is, or is she going to be the coward she knows she is?
Relationships: Cassandra Pentaghast/Female Trevelyan, Female Inquisitor/Cassandra Pentaghast
Series: The Sword and The Scabbard [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1375087
Comments: 56
Kudos: 117





	1. Never Been The Bravest

**Author's Note:**

> Some dialogue were lifting directly from the game before amending to fit the story. Also wrapping broken ribs is not what is done for modern medicine but I’m putting it down as the treatment since it’s the older method of treatment.
> 
> Commissioned art from [Naeviss](https://naeviss.tumblr.com/). Check out her [Tumblr](https://naeviss.tumblr.com/), [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/naevissl/?hl=en), [DeviantArt](https://www.deviantart.com/naeviss) and [Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/Naeviss/posts)

It took Cassandra’s breath away. Even now, hours after they sealed the breach, the after image was seared into the back of her retinas — the Herald standing spine stiff, arm thrusted to the sky. A green tendril connecting her left palm to the gaping hole above the Temple of Sacred Ashes. A cry rang out, ragged and raw. A wordless sound of effort and pain, of exhaustion and hope. It echoed in her ears. 

Cassandra sighed, turning her attention back to where she was. The party was in full swing. This was one rare occasion she relaxed with a pint in her hand, without plans and a running list of things to do filling her head. Laughter and sheer joy vibrated the chill night air. The exhilaration was infectious. The Herald was being hoisted up in the air to sit atop Iron Bull’s shoulders. She swung a similar pint of her own around as the crowd cheered for her. “Herald, Herald, Herald.” For once, the title didn’t make Trev’s shoulders hunch.

Sera’s screech of a laugh pierced the air. The elf was trying to climb up Bull like he was a tree to join Trev up high. _Oh, this isn’t going to end well._ She counted down the seconds, content for once to let it all play out. The Herald didn’t need corralling, not today of all days. Inevitably, Sera placed her arm around Trev’s waist and Trev jerked sharply to the side, laughing loud and high. And the pair came tumbling off. Cassandra chuckled at the sight, filing away the fact that Trev was ticklish.

A loud pop went off beside her ear. It sent Cassandra’s mind right back to the battlefield. 

All eyes were on the Breach when a clap of thunder reverberated throughout the temple. But she had her eyes on the Herald. A sigh and a puff of condensation escaped Trev’s lips as she hunched forward. Cassandra moved before she realised it, ready to steady Trev’s wavering form. But before she could reach the Herald, a shockwave snapped out from the rift, throwing everyone to the ground. Clouds overhead were swept away as a green pulse pierced the heavens.

Cassandra was quick to pick herself up, ignoring the scraps and bruises she had picked up during the battle. Trev lay still on the ground. Her heart lurched as her pulse started to race. Despite how heavy her armour was, how tired she felt, she crossed the distance between them quickly.

“Herald!” 

Trev’s brow twitched at the hated honorific. Her brown eyes fluttered open, groaning as she turned onto her side. Cassandra hurried to press her back onto the ground, hands already checking her for injuries. 

“Are you hurt?” the question came out in a rush. 

Trev batted her hands away, pushing herself to sit up. “No more than the usual.”

“What about your hand?”

Trev looked at her, surprised, shock and taken aback. “You remember.”

A familiar frown tightened her brow. “Of course I do,” she snapped. “What do you take me for? Now does it hurt? I should just get Solas to check, closing rifts tend to hurt you.”

Without waiting for a reply, she turned to seek out Solas, who was busy healing a Templar nearby. As she strode out, something was tugging her back by her arm. It was Trev. She had stood up, pressing a hand against her ribs. 

“I’m fine. I mean the hand is fine,” Trev said. “It did hurt but it’s fading now.” She tugged her glove off and showed Cassandra the mark. 

The green slash still glowed but its fire looked tamer. The light swirled in gentle circles on her palm. Trev clenched and unclenched her fist, shaking it out. “Just pins and needles. I think closing the original rift helped.”

Cassandra studied Trev, trying to gauge if Trev was just trying to put her off the scent. Trev noticed and she grinned. “Come on, the Breach is closed. And I have a cask back at Haven with my name on it.”

“What about your ribs?” she asked pointedly. 

“Just bruised is all.”

She now knew better than to trust Trev when it came to her health. Tugging a bottle of healing potion from her belt, she thrusted it at Trev. “Drink.”

“You’re not going to take no for an answer.” It was a statement, not a question. 

“Drink,” she repeated. 

“Fine,” Trev took the bottle from her hand and cocked her head. “Then, a party at Haven right?”

She narrowed her eyes. Trev held up one hand in mock surrender. “All right, all right. I’m drinking it now.” 

Trev marched with the others back to Haven. She was like a buzzing bee, working her way up and down the line of soldiers and mages. Speaking to them, thanking them for their help. It didn’t even seemed like she had just fought through countless demons and abominations and closed the Breach. Looking at Trev made Cassandra feel tired. How could the Herald still have so much energy? She couldn’t possibly fathom it.

“Kaffas!” Dorian’s cursing tugged Cassandra back to the present. “It has ruined my robes!” He was holding on a bottle of expensive Orlesian wine, foam flooding out the opened end. A grimace creased his face as he looked at his robes. They were drenched with wine. 

Blackwall chuckled and took the bottle from the mage, drinking straight from it. Vivienne shook her head, lips almost curling at the display. Cassandra allowed a small smile to tug at her lips as she relaxed. 

“Cassandra!” 

Trev was walking towards her, cheeks rosy and steps a little unsteady. Her armour had been shedded in favour for more comfortable clothes. The fully filled pint sloshed dangerously around the edges. She sat heavily down beside Cassandra, shoulder jostling into hers. The ale spilled and splattered the ground. And an annoyed meow came from somewhere beside Trev’s feet. 

Cassandra looked down and saw Trev’s white cat as Trev reached down to scoop him into her lap. 

“The cat can get onto the bench himself, you know.”

“Yes but he prefers me to carry him,” Trev pointed out as if it was totally logical. In the intervening months, the kitten grew and grew and grew. He’s now roughly now the size of a dog. Cassandra dread the day grew to the size of a mabari.

Cassandra just groaned and rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t begrudged Trev this. Lord Noisy as Trev had named the cat was a good rat catcher and pretty much needed nobody to care for his needs. And having Lord Noisy with Trev when she returned to Haven meant less nightmares as well. 

Trev scratched at the scar on her eyebrow, a reminder of some Templars taking issue with her recruiting the mages, and refilled Cassandra’s pint. “Let’s drink.”

Cassandra nodded. Tankard met Tankard in a clack and they both drank deeply. 

* * *

Trev’s breath was taken away as she raced towards the gate. Her lungs were heaving as she fought to calm her pounding heart. Cries of an approaching army had sent the revellers into disarray. She cursed her decision to drink as much as she did. 

Lord Noisy yowled at her when she dumped him unceremoniously onto the ground as she stood. She couldn’t do more than to mentally apologise to her cat. A strange boy had arrived with a warning, one that sent chills down her spine. 

_Why? Why now? And who are they?_

These were questions none of the advisors had answers for. Alarm bells tolled in the background, loud and insistent. Lights from torches lit up the mountains. Never had Trev felt this fear, not even when she was facing the Pride Demon mere hours ago. This was an army. How were they supposed to stand against an army of Red Templars?

Cullen was quick to offer a plan. And the trebuchets were key. 

* * *

Her breath was taken away again as she lay on her back. Air rushed out of her lungs as hard cold rocks dug into her back. Her gambeson was no plated armour. A blade narrowly whizzed past her head. It was sheer luck, she tripped when she did. The heavy fall onto the ground was preferable to having her height violently truncated. She was short enough as it was.

A Red Templar loomed over her, blade held high and her sword was out of reach. She held her breath and waited for the inevitable. 

They were just defending the trebuchet against swarms of Red Templars earlier. All of them with red crystals jutting from their armour and body. It didn’t seemed to bother them like it did her. Their eyes glowed red but their gaze was dead. Weapons lifted and fell mechanically. Blade and magic cutting people down without a care. But the Inquisition troops forced them back. The wood framed trebuchet groaned as the soldier manning the handle ratcheted the arm back as far as it could go. 

“Fire!” 

The counter weight swung one way while the payload swung the other. The sling threw the rock out into the air sending it crashing into the descending army. A cheer rang out. 

Trev was barely catching her breath when Blackwall pointed to the south trebuchet. “It’s not firing!”

Cassandra was instantly at the front again. A leader, a commander, a shining beacon. Trev renewed her grip on her sword and followed. Where Cassandra led, she’d always follow. 

A clank rang over Trev’s head jotting her back to the present. Cassandra had inserted herself between her and the Red Templar, catching the blade before it could reach her. Metal slammed against metal. But Cassandra’s arm held strong, weathering the blows, sheltering her. Stiff back, set shoulders, Cassandra was the literal embodiment of strength. And for a while, all Trev could do was stare. 

With a piercing cry, Cassandra thrusted her blade out. Sharp keen edge ran through the Red Templar with ease. They crumpled to the ground, blood oozing from the numerous holes Cassandra put there. She whirled around quickly, eyes shining with concern. “Are you hurt?”

Cassandra reached down to Trev and pulled her up. “I’m fine,” Trev said as her ribs twinged painfully. The injury from the earlier battle barely had time to heal and here she was in another fight for her life. Not just her own but for Haven and everyone there as well. 

“Get to the trebuchet,” Cassandra shouted. “I’ll cover you.”

Without waiting for a response, Cassandra turned away, trusting Trev to do what needed to be done. Among the noise and confusion stood the Seeker. A blade in her hand, held aloft high above her head as she shouted, “To me!” 

Trev stared. Soldiers, mages and their companions joined the fray. 

Trev shook herself out of her daze, picking up the sword she dropped as she raced towards the other trebuchet. She ran. Ignoring the shriek of blade against blade, the screams of soldiers and mages falling behind her. If she wanted to save Haven, she had to trust Cassandra and the others to fight. 

“Defend the Herald!” Cassandra cried. 

Trev hid the wince. This wasn’t the time for jokes or her sensibilities. The Elder One and his army was at their door. 

Iron Bull roared. The air vibrated with his defiance. He surged ahead, bowling Red Templars out of her way. “After you!” he tossed over his shoulder as he swung his huge ax. 

“Go!” Cassandra cried. 

Trev heard the command in Cassandra’s voice and she must answer. She planted her hands on the handle and turned. Ignoring her burning muscles, ignoring how her palms ached, ignoring the throbbing at her side that seemed to get worse with each second she stood. 

Cassandra called, she’d answer, always.

* * *

“The Elder One doesn’t care about the village, he only wants the Herald,” the strange boy said. 

The brightness in Trev’s eyes dimmed. The shadows inside the Chantry danced across her face. Cassandra’s chest tightened as her anger surged. _Who is this boy and what gives him the right to say such things?_ She turned to Trev, words ready to dismiss such utter wild claims. 

But something like stone, like resolve and determination stole over Trev’s face. Brown eyes taking in each of them in turn. First the mess of civilians, all of them scared. The air was choked full of pained whimpers and fearful whispers. Then, her companions. Eyes drifting over them, lingering on their wounds. Iron Bull was having a bandage wrapped around his massive chest, covering a gash across it. The white wraps already starting to stain red. Sera, Varric, Blackwall, Dorian, Vivienne and even the strange boy that arrived with the warning, nobody came through the battle unscathed. Everyone was nursing some combination of wounds and exhaustion.

Finally, Trev’s eyes rested on her. Cassandra met them head on. Trev’s eyes lingered on the blood crusted on her forehead, a question unspoken. She brushed at it self consciously. “I’m fine.”

Trev nodded, reaching out to grip her shoulder. Her hand was ice cold. Cassandra couldn’t help but realised that the Herald had been through battle with the Red Templars dressed merely in a gambeson. Red was seeping though fabric where blade had found flesh. “Are you ok?”

Trev shook her head, squeezed Cassandra’s shoulder once before straightening. She had found a well of inner strength and was digging deep into it. Cullen and Cole looked at Trev expectantly. Her face was a mask of determination and resignation in equal. “If it can save these people, they can have me,” 

Cassandra’s breath froze in her lungs. The hand she kept on the pommel of her blade twitched but she clenched it, keeping it still. How could they ask this of the Herald? How could they ask this of Trev?

“Yes that would work!” Cole exclaimed. 

Trev turned towards Cole. Her hand sllipped off Cassandra’s shoulder. Cassandra couldn’t help but feel the loss. Before she could wonder, she shoved the thought from her mind. Haven was in danger, so was the Herald. They needed her to concentrate. 

Roderick gave them a thin thread of hope with his dying breath. A path that could lead the others out and keep them free from the path of the avalanche. But that meant…

“What about it Cullen? Will it work?” Trev asked, her voice hush. 

She could feel the waves of exhaustion rolling off Trev. In that moment, she realised how young Trev was really. Lexington Trevelyan had only seen a mere 25 summers. And here she was leading them, shouldering a burden forced upon her. But she bore it well.

“What of your escape?” Cullen asked after concurring with Roderick’s suggestion. 

Trev didn’t speak, she turned away, eyes seeking Cassandra’s again. Anxiety and apprehension flickered across her eyes. Once again in the space of mere minutes, Trev straightened as if she received a boost of energy from Andrastate herself. 

Cassandra’s breath hitched. This was bravery. Action despite fear, determination despite dread. _How can we ask this of her?_

Cullen realised what Trev wouldn’t, couldn’t put into words. “Perhaps you’ll surprise it…”

“Just promise me this,” Trev interrupted. 

“Yes,” he latched onto her words like it was her dying request. 

_No, Trev will survive this. She must._

“Have Sera shoot the signal. Her arm is the strongest and I trust her to make sure I get the signal.”

“No!” Sera burst out. “I’m going to kick some Elder Shit’s pants with you, yeah?”

“Sera,” Trev said, her voice steady as she levelled her gaze at the archer, chin jerking towards Sera’s leg. “You can barely walk.”

“I can stand,” Sera countered. 

She sighed and approached Sera, pressing a hand on her shoulder. “I appreciate it but truly, fire the signal arrow when everything is clear so I know…” Her voice broke at the last word and she cleared her throat forcefully. “So I know when to launch the payload.”

“You’re not going alone,” Cassandra growled, stepping forward. “I’m not allowing you to.”

Trev’s eyes snapped to hers. Relief warred with anguish. “No, you shouldn’t. It—”

“Trevelyan,” Iron Bull hefted his axe onto his shoulder. “It’s no trouble. That’s what you pay me for. Krem will see the others to safety.”

“But—”

“Come on, let’s finish this with flair,” Dorian’s Tevinter accent lilting. “You can’t possibly do this without me.”

Trev looked at all of them, tears stood in her eyes as she dashed them away angrily. Words failed her. But steel stiffened her spine, snapping her upright as she turned resolutely towards the door. 

“Cullen, get the people out of here,” she said as she shoved the doors opened. 

Cassandra followed where Trev led, her heart swelling with pride and awe, she was an extraordinary woman. 

* * *

“Now let’s get their attention,” Dorian said. “Happens to be a speciality of mine.”

Trev couldn’t help the grin tugging at her lips. She was ready to head out there alone, to face the Elder One and his army by herself. But now three brave souls stood with her, screaming their defiance into the wind as they cut down as many Red Templars as they could. She couldn’t help but feel invincible. 

Listening to the sizzle of Dorian’s magic whizzed over her head was heartening. Electricity jumped from templar to templar, jolting them still and quivering. She rushed in with a borrowed sword and shield. A hard slam pushed them down onto the ground and an overhead swing severed head from body. In battle, she felt alive. Her blood sang with victory and hope. 

Bull roared as he spun with his axe held out an arm’s length. Enemies darted out of the way or they risk being cut in half where they stood. He left a trail of dead Red Templar in his wake. Bull was a one Qunari army all by himself. 

But Cassandra was different. She wasn’t as powerful as Bull. Neither was she flashy like Dorian. She was tightly wound ferocity, she was controlled chaos. Her sword was an extension of her arm, her shield a part of her body. Trev could lose herself watching Cassandra danced in battle. There was something to be said watching a professional being good at what they did. 

A flash of pain ran up her side. She had overextended herself, her ribs reminding her of the wounds she had taken in the battle to reach the Breach earlier. She snorted. If this wasn’t the time to push her, when was it?

Eventually they made their way back to the trebuchet. This was old hat by now. Trev ran towards the handle and started turning. It took all her focus to ignore the roar of battle around her. Her job was to get this fucking trebuchet aimed. Maker knew she didn’t know what the fuck she was doing. All she was told was to turn that fucking handle. 

“Aim the trebuchet they say,” she growled in between heavy breaths. “It’s easy they say.”

“More turning, less whining!” Dorian shouted as he sent sparks into a cluster of enemies. 

Bull rammed into them, tossing over like dolls. “Again!” he shouted with glee. 

“Focus people!” Cassandra yelled sharply. Her blade sang as it sailed through the air, stabbing a Templar that attempted to flank Trev. 

Trev couldn’t help but flinch, hands already releasing the handle to grab her sword. But Cassandra glared at her, making her freeze in her tracks. “Keep at it,” she instructed. 

Trev took in the carnage around them. Bodies laid in piles. Most were slumped over, wounds littered their flesh. Others were completely blackened, charred by the lightning, Dorian’s handiwork no doubt. 

“I should fight,” she said, drawing her blade. 

But Cassandra’s gaze hardened. “Trust me,” she said. “I’ll keep you safe.”

Trev’s jaw tightened. There was no time to waste. She shouldn’t even be speaking to Cassandra in the middle of a fight. But she couldn’t look away. This demanded an answer. And there was only one she could give. She dropped her sword and grabbed the handle again. “I trust you,” she shouted over the noise of battle, turning her back resolutely against it. “I trust you.”

She didn’t see the grin that broadened Cassandra’s lips but she felt it in Cassandra’s battle cry. It was the shot of confidence she needed. 

* * *

As Trev made the final couple of turns, her palms completely numb and raw by this time, half from the cold, half from the work. But the trebuchet was ready. All they needed was Sera’s signal. Trev looked to the sky. Dim lights still descended towards Haven. The horde of Red Templars barely thinned from all the effort expanded. 

“But this will work, it has to,” she muttered under her breath. Eyes scanning the sky for the signal. “Come on, Sera.”

Instead of salvation, she found doom. A dark shadow cut through the clouds and was getting nearer. Fear ran cold in her veins. She found her sword and shield and picked them up, body tensing for battle. Silhouetted against the strange green-tinted sky, the shadow was approaching rapidly and resolving itself into a large scaly beast. It’s the dragon and it was heading straight for her. 

_I’m going to die._

Her heart faltered but Cassandra’s fearsome roar of defiance jolted her out of inaction. _The Elder One can have me but not them. Haven needs them, Thedas needs them. I won’t let them fall here._ Trev spun on her heels and shouted, “Move! Now!”

Its roar announced its intention. She ran making sure everyone else was ahead. They had but moments to get clear as the dragon banked close. Its enormous wing span whipped up snow and dirt, obscuring her vision. But as the dragon’s jaw opened, a fire bright and cracking, hot and fierce spewed forth. The sound was terrifying as it crackled and sizzled. If she wasn’t already running, she’d be rooted to the spot, too scared to move. 

Flames raked the ground, melting snow, flash boiling them into steam and charring the ground at the same time. Trev’s lungs burnt as she fought to cover the ground. Cassandra turned back, hand reaching out towards her. Breath puffed quick and fast as she dropped her shield to grab it. Cassandra was too far, she was too slow. The dragon was here and there was no more time. 

Fire lit the supply crates of explosives they hadn’t used, igniting the entire load. Trev didn’t know what was happening until the blast slammed into her back, throwing her into the air. _Oh shit._ And her world went black instantly as the ground slammed into her. 

* * *

“No!” Cassandra cried as debris from a storage structure crumpled under the blast and fire. 

Trev fell. She saw it. The blast swept all of them onto their asses and sent them sprawling. Teeth gritted, she used her blade to brace herself to her feet. Her back and torso screamed with pain. The battle wasn’t kind. Shielding Trev, instead of having her by her side fighting, took a lot out of Cassandra. Her breath puffed out in small clouds as she caught her breath, straightening and making sure her shield was still strapped tightly on her arm. 

As she took the first couple of step towards the flaming inferno the debris had turned into, a hand tugged her to a stop. She growled, a wordless noise of frustration. 

“Hey, hey,” Dorian held his hands up. “We should get to the Chantry and join the others.”

“But—”

“He’s right,” Bull said, picking himself up. “We are in no shape to fight the dragon.”

“Trev—”

“She’s gone,” Bull interjected. “Nobody can survive that. We have bought the people of Haven time and with the Elder One and his cursed pet dragon still out there, they need us to defend them.”

Dorian glanced between the two. Fear flickered across his face. Cassandra looked at them, really looked. Blood coated Bull’s torso, his bandages from earlier had unravelled. Old wounds had started bleeding again and he gained an ugly long gash down one leg. It was staining the snow red. Dorian had a cut on his arm. His knuckles white as the staff trembled in his grip, his complexion ashen. They were all on their last legs. 

“The boss wouldn’t want us to go back and get ourselves killed. We’re better served rejoining the others, they need us more than she did.”

 _Did… Past tense. Dead and gone._ But Cassandra had promised. She told Trev to trust her to keep her safe. _I had been styling myself as a protector but how can I be one when I can’t even protect the person Thedas needs the most._ She had failed to keep her promise. Trev had entrusted her life to her and she had utterly and completely been found wanting. _I had failed Justinia. And I failed Trev._

Logic dictated nobody could have survived the dragon’s attack. But Cassandra railed against it. There was a bone deep conviction thumping in her chest that swore she’d know if Trev had died. And it hadn’t felt that way, not yet. Cassandra snarled, a noise of pure frustration as she turned her back on others, making towards the fire, trying to seek a way around the obstruction. 

“Trevelyan wouldn’t want you to throw your life away,” Dorian called out. “She was afraid of the future we saw. She had fallen but what she feared might still come true. And the Inquisition needs you to guide and lead it.”

She stilled, shudders ran up her spine, body screaming for rest. _But I’ve promised._ Her head pounded as her heart skipped and lurched trying to keep pace with the adrenaline rushing through her veins. _I’ve promised._

“Seeker,” Bull called. 

The title was a jolted to her head. Her spine stiffened as she remembered she was more than just a protector to Trev. She was also a Seeker of Truth, she had started this Inquisition. This was more than Trev, this was for the survival of Thedas. 

“Haven needs you, they need us,” Dorian said, his voice hush. 

The breath she held in her chest was let out explosively. They were right. Haven needed them. _Trev, I’ll be back. I swear I’ll find you._ Teeth gritted, she faced the pair. “Let’s hurry, the others need to be warned.”

As steps took her away from Haven, she felt she left her heart there buried in the rubble with Trev. 

* * *

Trev’s throat was raw. She had been screaming. Her eyes watered as pain lanced up her left arm. She could feel it throbbing behind her eyes even as she squeezed them shut. Waves of energy leapt from her hand. It felt like her soul was being dragged from her body, forcibly ripping her into two. 

When she came to after the blast, her ribs were on fire. It was agony just to breathe but she still in one piece. But someone was approaching. She had to move. Heavy footsteps crunched through snow and rubble with equal ease. It took effort to roll onto her side, to find the strength to stand. As she turned, her eyes went wide with horror at the sight before her. 

This was the Elder One. 

Angry, tall and looming, he had claws for hands, red shards formed an armour around him. It even encircled his scarred and lined face. A mere glare, he levelled at her, and it shook her to the core. 

Trev wasn’t brave. She wasn’t even special, it’s the Anchor that was. She was ordinary in all sense, enjoying a happy childhood despite her mother dying giving her life. She was indulged as a child, groomed to take on the traditional role of a woman in a noble house — to be married off and gain House Trevelyan alliances and to deliver new scions from her loins. Even that she did poorly, taking to the sword and shield better than she did the needle and thread. Finally sent out to the Conclave to do some good for the family and looked what happened? She mucked it all up. 

Trev rose to her feet unsteadily, hand clutching her ribs. Her hair normally braided up, fall in loose strands around her face. For once she was grateful for the flames that separated them. She turned to run only to be forced back by the dragon bounding towards. The beast’s snarl blew her hair back, spittle and Maker knew what else splattered against her. The stench reminded her of bloated and rotting corpses of Fallow Mire. Skin sloughing away to reveal the maggots and fish eaten innards of the dead. She tightened her jaw to keep her food in. The victory party felt like it happened a lifetime ago. 

The dragon reared its head up and roared. She clapped her hands over her ears as a wave of vertigo swept over her. It was a miracle she didn’t wet herself. “Where’s my sword?” she muttered before realising it was in her hand all along. Knuckles white, skin stretched, she lifted her blade in a last ditch attempt of defiance. _I’m going to die, I’m going to die._

That was before the Elder One got his hands on her, before he tried to extract the Anchor from her hand, before her vision had turned white and all she could hear were her own screams. The Elder One, no Corypheus, went on speaking. Words just washed over her, her mind barely able to comprehend him through the pain. Twin spikes jabbed up from her knees as she fell to the ground. The dragon huffed as its approached from behind, sealing her only route of escape. 

“Stop, please just stop,” she cried through clenched teeth, barely having the strength to stand. “I don’t want it, I never wanted it.”

But even then, even when her hand was glowing, sparks of green lightning leaping and pouring from the slash that tied her to this path, she kept her eyes on the skies. Praying for the signal, praying for permission to end this once and for all. 

She recoiled as Corypheus stepped close and yanked her into the air by her arm. Waves of raw energy coursed through her body. She gasped, too exhausted for screaming, and just endured. Teeth biting down on lips, the taste of iron sharp on her tongue, her feet dangling in the air. 

_Sera, please give me the signal._

Pure crackling lightning seared her veins, lighting her nerves on fire. Corypheus’ grip was sure, no amount of struggling would get her free. 

“I’ve seen the throne of the Gods and it was empty,” Corypheus growled. 

_What was he talking about?_

It was all Trev had time to think before he tossed her. Her back slammed against hard unyielding wood. It splintered and split under the impact. Her back screamed as her side burn deeply. _Something is definitely broken now._ She could feel the bones shifting and grinding inside. Her vision dimmed as she gazed listlessly at Corypheus. 

“The Anchor is permanent. You have spoilt it with your stumbling,” he growled. 

“Great,” she winced and shook her head to clear her vision. “Something else that I’ve fucked up. What’s new?”

Her eyes drifted away, spotting the sword that lay in the snow between them. She steeled herself and scrambled for it. If this was it, she didn’t want to go out laying on her back and waiting for the end. And since fucking things up was her talent, she’d go all out to mess with Corypheus’ plans. 

But fear turned her insides cold. Corypheus and the dragon advanced towards her. What was a piece of steel against those two? Her left arm held her sword but it was entirely useless, it was already taking all her effort just to keep a grip on it. 

Then in the distance a light scored across the sky. It was unmistakeable. This was the signal. A giddy laugh bubbled up. Corypheus frowned. For a moment, Cassandra popped into her mind and she sighed. “I hope you’re safe, my friend.” She glanced about. The handle was just right there, within reach. 

“I will not suffer even an unknowing rival,” Corypheus growled. “You must die.”

Trev didn’t bother replying. Her breath kept for what she needed to do. Feet stumbling and staggering, she launched into action. With a booted foot, she stomped on the handle and the trebuchet unwound, launching the payload into the nearest mountain. The answering rumbling was satisfying as snow sped down the steep inclines towards Haven. She didn’t wait around. 

Trev ran. 

No thought was left in her head, just an urgent need to be away. The dragon bellowed behind her but even Corypheus could talk an avalanche to death. Cracking, splintering, breaking and shattering. Haven was getting buried. And Trev didn’t want to be here when the snow reached. She kept running. But her body was failing her, exhaustion won out over the sheer adrenaline rush. And she stumbled. 

Trev felt her stomach leapt out of her mouth as she fell and fell. She plunged into darkness. 


	2. I am rock, I am stone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassandra was the lone rock in the stream of humans, unmoving and unmovable. Her leg twitched as she took a step to head back towards Haven, back towards where she left Trev. Immediately, she felt a hand on her shoulder. It was Bull’s. His massive hand kept her from moving. He shook his head. “Trevelyan is gone. Don’t be foolish.”
> 
> Anger flared, it was easier to deal with than this nebulous hurt in her chest. “Foolish? Foolish was leaving her behind, foolish was not listening to my instincts. She could have lived, she could still be alive!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Commissioned art from [Naeviss](https://naeviss.tumblr.com/). Check out her [Tumblr](https://naeviss.tumblr.com/), [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/naevissl/?hl=en), [DeviantArt](https://www.deviantart.com/naeviss) and [Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/Naeviss/posts)

Cassandra trudged on. Her feet were cold, plated greaves and sabatons were poor choices for walking into a blizzard. Up and down, she lifted her feet clear of the snow only to bring them down again. Lines of survivors snaked ahead of her. All of them huddling close for warmth as soldiers better armoured walked along the sides, swords and bows ready to defend. 

This was all that was left of Haven. The village was completely buried under snow. Its existence utterly erased. Trev survived the dragon despite what the others said and she accomplished her mission. Cassandra had left her there. Now… her chest clenched tightly, she pressed a hand against it. Her steps slowed and halted as she stopped and looked. The village she had escaped from, the one person she swore to protect. Her jaw tightened as she ignored the people behind her, the trail of survivors trudging in her wake. Her eyes were trained on the column of snow tossed up by the avalanche. It was hours since the initial one and the snow was still settling.

“Trev, are you still alive?” she whispered, puffs of condensation wafting from her lips. “Maker, please protect the Herald.” Her head told her Trev couldn’t have possibly survived. But her heart wanted Trev to be alive. It didn’t believe Trev was dead before and it still wasn’t convinced now.

Cassandra was the lone rock in the stream of humans, unmoving and unmovable. Her leg twitched as she took a step to head back towards Haven, back towards where she left Trev. Immediately, she felt a hand on her shoulder. It was Bull’s. His massive hand kept her from moving. He shook his head. “Trevelyan is gone. Don’t be foolish.”

Anger flared, it was easier to deal with than this nebulous hurt in her chest. “Foolish? Foolish was leaving her behind, foolish was not listening to my instincts. She could have lived, she could still be alive!”

People cowered away from them. A shock of blonde hair headed in their direction. “What’s going on?” Cullen growled. “This is neither the time or place for this.” 

Another pair of footsteps approached. This one lighter as if the person was gliding on top of the snow. “Cassandra,” Leliana hissed, tugging at her arm. “I need to speak to you privately.”

She allowed herself to be pulled aside while Cullen spoke furiously with Bull. She kept her eyes on them as Leliana guided her. The moment had passed, aches and pain came flaring back. “What do you want?” the question spilled from her lips angrily.

“I know you regret leaving Trevelyan behind but she did what she set out to do. She bought us time and this is time we needed. Haven needed this. Otherwise, we’d all die back there.”

Cassandra sighed. Cold air stung her nose and throat as she squeezed her eyes shut. 

“Come on,” Leliana said, “Let’s not waste her sacrifice.”

Cassandra trudged in Leliana’s wake as thoughts and regrets roiled inside her head. And she did the only thing she could think to do — pray. 

_O Maker, hear my cry:  
Guide me through the blackest nights._

Her voice hushed and quiet, husky and raw, but in the stillness of the marching column, it was the only voice that rose above the gentle shifting of feet and snow. 

_Steel my heart against the temptations of the wicked.  
Make me to rest in the warmest places._

Prayers always was her solace and source of guidance. But this night, it didn’t help. 

How wrong she was of Trev. Lexington Trevelyan, after she was convinced Trev wasn’t responsible for the explosion at the Conclave, hadn’t left her with a great impression. She was young and at times she behaved childishly, shirking her responsibilities and was more contented with pranking the people of Haven with Sera than to do what she was supposed to. But in the months since, Trev grew into her role but yet she maintained an air of youth around her, able to relax, smile and laugh — living in the moment. And for all that, for how young and immature Cassandra felt she was, Trev stood up when it counted. She stood against the Elder One, alone. 

Cassandra straightened and pushed the pain aside. She’ll get the others to safety and come back again. “I’ll come back for you, Trev. I’ll make sure your bravery isn’t forgotten.”

* * *

Something cried. The noise echoed. It was insistent, high pitched and altogether familiar. 

Trev opened her eyes. Shades of grey blended with black, they danced and mocked her attempt at consciousness. Everything was blurry. She blinked rapidly to clear her vision but nothing improved. There was a patch of lighter grey just above her but everywhere else was dark. _Why?_

She frowned as she searched her memories. Corypheus, the Anchor, the avalanche and the fall. Retrieving her memories woke the pain. Her left arm radiated heat that crept towards her shoulder. Her left eye throbbed something fierce. Ribs felt like someone had taken a stick to her. Breathing sent spikes up and down her chest, forcing her to keep her breath short. In summary, she felt like she was eaten by the dragon and spat back out again, too horrible even to eat. 

The mewing grew louder jerking her attention to it. Trev tried to sit up but her side flared up in pain. She sank back onto her back, panting as her vision greyed out. 

“Lord Noisy, is that you?” she called out. The mewing took on a more urgent pitch. 

“All right, all right,” she hissed under her breath. “Just hang on, I’m coming. Once I can actually sit up.”

Slowly, she moved her hands behind her. Rocks and broken wood cut her palms as she braced herself. Up and turn, that’s the plan. To stand was probably out of the question if the mere act of sitting up was this bad. The pain was growing in intensity as she shifted herself into position. If she wasn’t going to do it now, she’ll lose her nerve. Breath puffing small clouds against her mouth. “All right, on three.”

“One.” Elbows bent, feet planted. 

“Two.” Eyes blinking away the fog in her head. 

“Three.” She pushed. 

Something ripped inside of her. There was a wet squelch as she rose. A scream burst from her lips before she could think to keep it down. Her head flushed hot and cold as she turned to her side, the good one. One hand pressed against her side, the bad one, to find it completely wet. The stench of iron filled her nose. “Not good,” she shuddered as she fought the urge to curl up around the wound and lay down again. 

“Get up, get up!” To lay down was death, to remain here was death. 

Nobody was coming for her after seeing that avalanche. Nobody would believe she was still alive. Even she didn’t know how she survived. 

Despite stars blooming in her vision, Trev staggered to her feet, the mewing urging her on. She looked at the ground. There was a broken piece of the trebuchet rising up from the ground, a pool of blood surrounded the spike. And she had fallen on it. The entire left side of her gambeson was coated in red. Blood, hers, was pouring from the hole where the spike of splintered wood had punched through her back and reaching out to the front. 

“Shit.”

It was the only thing that kept her from bleeding out. A wave of vertigo almost brought her to her knees. Only hands braced against the debris kept her upright. The mewing intensified. 

“Ok, ok, it’s time to go.”

Feet unsteady, she sought the source of mewing. There in the gloom was a patch of white fur. As she walked, the wound tugged and stretched, sending jolts down her hips, up her chest. “I’m coming, I’m coming,” she wheezed as she staggered.

It took some effort, her body reminding her exactly how much, she found Lord Noisy. His fur was all matted and grey, but his orange eyes gleamed brightly. Trev sighed in relief when she couldn’t spot any injures on him, beyond an immense sense of displeasure at being trapped in a pocket of debris. He mewed and it echoed throughout the cave they found themselves in, caves under Haven nobody knew about. And she was glad for them now. 

Trev grunted as she cleared the smaller pieces from the pile, careful not to bring the entire thing down on Noisy. She reached in, face pressed up against the pile, hand slapping around to grab at him. “Come on, work with me,” she huffed. 

Noisy shrank backwards at the intrusion, swatting at her hand. Trev sighed and pulled her hand back. She glanced around, there was just a beam she needed removed so that the hole would be wide enough for Noisy to escape. She pushed herself upright, hissing and groaning, hands wrapped around the offending beam. 

“Just… need… to get this out of the way.” 

Trev gave it a quick tug, she cried out feeling the wound tear wider. The beam groaned and shifted as she fell on her ass, the air rushing out of her lungs. There was an irritated yowl and the ball of white fur came rushing out before the entire rickety delicate balance of debris and broken material came tumbling down. She sighed, working up the strength to stand again. 

Noisy was making his displeasure known, tail slashing at the air. Orange eyes glaring at her as if somehow this was all her fault. “Maybe it is my fault, I brought a mountain on us after all,” she hissed through clenched teeth, holding her hand to her side. It was so cold the blood had frozen. She hoped that this was a good sign. 

Noisy padded by her side for a bit before rubbing his body against her leg. She stumbled, barely catching her balance in time. A harsh inhale of air as her vision turned white. Noisy sat his ass on the ground seemingly waiting for something. Trev sighed and picked the giant of a cat up before tucking him inside her gambeson and walked on. 

“Come on, let’s catch up with the others.”

* * *

“Let me look at your wounds,” Solas said, his words raised to be heard over the howling winds. The survivors were all huddled behind a large boulder. The boulder was luckily large enough to accommodate them all. Fires were quickly built and everyone rested their legs and tended to their wounds. 

Cassandra grunted and just huddled closer to the fire. “I’ve drank a healing potion. I’ll be fine. There are others who need your magic more than I.”

Leliana’s exasperated sigh hissed passed her ear. “I’ll make sure she gets the healing she needs. Pardon her tone, she’s just a little tired. We all are.”

Solas muttered something she couldn’t hear and he retreated, heading towards the others. Cassandra bit back the sigh that threatened to spill forth. She didn’t need to prove Leliana right, as she always was in these things. Her wounds were minor compared to the others. There were those with broken bones, those with wounds that opened to the biting cold air, those who had succumbed to their injuries before they even made it here. 

Cullen had called for a halt and tents were hastily put up. Healers jumped to work. More than once a cry of pain rang out into the dark of night before it was quickly muffled under a hand. Cassandra tried to ignore it, it only reminded her that Trev was buried under rock and snow waiting for her. 

“How’s the healing potions supply looking?” she asked, pulling her mind to the task of leading the survivors. 

Leliana sighed and sank down next to her. Hands reaching out towards the flames. “Not good, we’re down to the last crate. The Elder One didn’t give us much time to pack our things,” she said ruefully. 

Cassandra snorted. 

“How are you holding up?” Leliana asked. 

She frowned. “What do you mean?” Anger flickering back to life again. It was preferably to the helplessness that was seeping into her bones. “I’m sore, I’m tired and there is still so much to be done.” With a groan, she rose to her feet. Her joints creaked and popped, her muscles screamed in protest but she remained standing through sheer stubbornness. “I should be checking in with Cullen to make sure the men are out standing guard. We need—”

“Maker,” Leliana cursed. “Cassandra just sit down for a moment and rest. Cullen is rested and uninjured. He can deal with the troops far better than you can.” A warm hand reached out and tugged her back down. She grunted as she sat, a grimace tightening her brow. 

“Lift your shirt,” Leliana instructed. 

“Leliana, this is not the time—”

“Lift. Your. Shirt.”

A sigh and she unbuckled her plate and let it drop to her feet and she lifted her gambeson. Dried blood had made the fabric stuck to her side. She grunted as she worked it free. The wound bled anew. Leliana shot her a look before pulling out supplies. “And you lied, Seeker,” she growled. 

“I seek the truth, I did not pledge to speak it.”

Leliana’s eyes narrowed. “Jokes? Trevelyan has rubbed off more on you than you realised.”

Cassandra looked away. She was just too tired to seek healing. And she wasn’t all that badly wounded. Or so she told herself. Leliana was rough but precise with her stitches. Eventually, a bandage was wrapped around her middle binding the wound tightly. 

“Take care of yourself, Cassandra,” Leliana said, voice soft, hands gentle now. “I know losing the Herald is hard. But the battle has just begun. We need you at your best.”

She hastily tugged her shirt down and re-buckled her armour. Eyes glared at the flames as if it was offending her as she gathered herself together. Leliana was right. As much as she wanted to believe Trev was still alive, she had to be realistic. The little twinge in her chest, when her thoughts strayed to Trev, was quickly filed it down as guilt. Guilt for not keeping her promise. There was the bigger picture to consider. The Inquisition’s mission wasn’t complete till the Elder One was defeated. Theadas depended on them. 

“I’m sorry about Trevelyan,” Leliana pressed a hand on her shoulder. “I know what she meant to you.”

Cassandra sat at the fire a little while longer, pondering at Leliana’s words. _Trev was my charge but her loss affects us all. I must do better._

* * *

_Cold._ Her fingers were numb, her legs twin pieces of icicles that for some reason were still able to move. At this point, Trev’s thoughts were frozen in her head too. 

_Cassandra will come. The others will come for me. They will. They must._

The only warm spot was Lord Noisy nestled against her chest. He alternated between faint purring and mewing, the only indication he was still alive. Nothing ached anymore. They were all numb. No pain, no soreness just a bone deep exhaustion that ran through her body. 

Trev concentrated on putting on one foot in front of another. Wind whipped her hair about, loose strands slapping against her near paralysed face. Her eyes were silts against the snow as she squirted, trying to peer out ahead. She had made it out of the cave despite the wisps and demons that bared her path. With a sword she found, so old and brittle she was sure it would snap at the first hit, she fought with a belief she wasn’t going to make it. But the Anchor roared to life, shooting pain up her arm. 

It felt like the Anchor was reaching towards her heart, drawing life energy from her soul. Pressure built against her palm, wild and erratic. She cried out as she thrusted her arm into the air as if closing a rift. But instead as the energy shot forth, one formed above her and it dragged wisps and demons into it before snapping shut. 

“What...” She stared at her hand, more afraid than excited at this newfound power. 

But she was too exhausted, her nerves too sensitive to care. The sharp jolts ceased immediately but her arm still tingled uncomfortably. Knees near buckling at the sudden vacuum of energy. She staggered but kept her feet. The Elder One’s interference must have done something to the Anchor. She’ll have to speak to Solas about it. It was no longer calm and quiet. A coiled snake had taken up residence in her palm and would snapped out at anyone including her without warning. 

Trev shook her hands out and stuffed them into her armpits. She couldn’t afford to stand here and muse about her hand. She needed to move. All these problems would be addressed, when she get to the others, _if_ she got to the others. 

Once out of the cave, she was at the mercy of the blizzard. Snow and wind lashed against her hunched back like whips. Noisy squirmed at how she near folded herself in half to walk into the storm. All thoughts had fled, only the next step mattered. Time lost meaning as she trudged through the snow. Strength seeped out with every step. Ice burrowed into her lungs with every every breath. 

Then, she squinted. 

Ahead were patches of black on the ground and what looked like the remains of a fire pit sheltering behind a large boulder. Trev near collapsed onto the ground as she stepped out of the storm. The incoming wind was what’s left propping her upright. She fell to her knees, hands went immediately to the fire pit. A hysterical laugh bubbled from her lips. It was still slightly warm. Tears brimmed and rolled down her checks, cutting streaks through dried blood and dirt. 

“They’re near,” she whispered into Noisy’s fur. “I hope, they’re near.” Body sagged against the boulder, eyes fluttering shut. “But maybe a little rest here is all right. I’m so tired.”

As her limbs relaxed, she started tipping forward when an insistent mew jolted her. Trev flinched and jerked upright. A pair of orange eyes was glaring at her. “Maker, I’m exhausted, can’t I rest a little?”

Noisy stretched a paw out, tapped her nose. It was a solid contact. Startled, she recoiled, almost releasing her grip on the cat. “Maker take you, cat,” she hissed as she fought to stand again. “You’re a bloody slave driver.”

The wind howled as it rushed through the small space between the boulder and the mountain side, wiping snow up into a flurry. Trev trembled harder and frowned. “Which way did I come?” She twisted around and looked. Her tracks from before were all obscured and covered by fresh snow. There was no way to really know. “How did I get here?”

Confusion made her hesitate. But Noisy was not having it. Another paw, another tap. She started moving but her knees wouldn’t lock and she fell face first into the snow. The cat yowled at being squished under her weight. Fingers dug into the snow and dirt, bracing against the icy claws that reached inside, she stood again. The shivering was so bad she could barely coordinate her limbs. But Noisy did all he could, yowling and screaming to get her moving again. 

“You win, you win,” Trev whispered through cracked lips. She wasn’t sure if she was headed in the right way. She wasn’t even sure if this was the right thing to do. Leaving the shelter of the boulder was hard, to keep walking was harder. But in the howling blizzard, her frozen thoughts remained with her. 

_Cassandra will come. The others will come for me. They will. They will._

* * *

“She still believes,” the strange boy said. 

Cassandra stiffened and turned. The boy was here and he was gone. She didn’t think he was wholly human. But whatever he was, he was infuriating. _Who is he talking about? Who believes?_

The strange boy wasn’t here. He had no answers for her, he only left questions in his wake. But the tug against her chest was so strong Cassandra had surged to her feet to pace, just to distract herself. 

_Trev’s dead. She’s dead._

A wordless growl rumbled in her chest. Frustrated that the strange boy had tugged Trev back to the fore of her mind. She was supposed to be working with the others, deciding what they needed to do next. But she was no longer listening. 

Cullen argued for marching on, pointing out by staying out in the elements they were consigning the survivors to exposure and death. Leliana and Josephine, on the other hand, argued for making camp, stating they were in no shape to keep pushing on into the night. Without a direction or a destination, it was folly. Cassandra frowned and glared, offering no opinions of her own. All she saw were bad decisions at every turn. It was then her mind threw an echo of Trev’s voice at her. This would be when Trev would make a joke, diffusing the tension. She missed them keenly despite how she used to see them as one of Trev’s childish behaviours. And jokes were always followed up by a sharp question or two. How did they become so reliant on her? When did this happen? Now with all four of them headstrong with their views, there was no moving forward. 

“Cassandra,” Leliana called. 

She jerked her head up, realising she had missed Leliana’s question. Irritation licked at the tatters of her patience. She had failed Trev and she was failing the survivors now. “We should take a break,” she said, ignoring the questions in their eyes. “We’re getting nowhere like this. And we all could use a little rest.”

Leliana sighed, squeezing the bridge of her nose, and nodded. “Cassandra is right. We’ll meet back in an hour.”

Cassandra spun on her heels before any one of them could stop her. Taking her anger away with her, she marched towards the guards posted at the rear of their camp. There was a fire burning brightly and the guards were taking turns warming themselves. She shook her head. It was destroying what night vision they had. But at the same time, this was a beacon of light for Trev, if she survived. 

_If._

“It hurts, inside and out. But she still trusts,” Cole said. 

Cassandra jumped and cursed. Hand swinging out in a chopping manner, she found nothing but air. _Who! Who trusts? What hurts?_ “Argh,” she snarled. And the guards near the fire edged away from her. 

She withdrew her claws, knowing when her anger was piqued, she’ll just lashed out at everyone and anyone nearby. They didn’t deserve it. Nobody did, she only had herself to blame. Feet stomping harder than needed, the motion sent jolts up her sore side. It was better she took her fury and herself away from people. She was no good to anyone like this. 

_Cole had better stay away if he knows what’s good for him._

As she stepped passed the fire, towards the edge where the light didn’t reach, she shivered and tucked her hands into her pockets. Back straight, eyes sharp, she looked out into the darkness. Light flickered and shadow danced, she remained where she was as if ordered to stand guard, as if she was being punished.

Snow peppered over her black hair, melting into her clothes and running down her armour. _Why does the cold burn? Why does it the snow sting?_ Her chest ached from the cold, her wounds and something deeper. Something she couldn’t put a finger on because it hurt, and it stank of guilt. Her jaw tightened. She needed to stand guard and keep an eye out. _For who? Trev? She’s dead._ The thought reverberated inside her skull, her chest ached in response. 

And her head warred with her heart over and over.

Footsteps crunched snow underfoot. Cassandra stiffened, half expecting cryptic words to be whispered into her ears. None came as she kept her eyes trained on the gloom. Watching, praying and hoping. 

“Seeker,” Cullen called out. 

She let go of the breath she held, fingers clenching and unclenching over the pommel of her blade. Her head jerked, a curt nod. 

“It’s impossible to travel on tonight, we’re setting camp here. First light, I’ll be sending out scouts. We need shelter, a real one and soon. We can’t survive another night like this,” he said. 

She sighed and nodded, wrenching her eyes away from her vigil reluctantly. “Yes, scouts will be the first order of business. But we should dig in as well. We should send out hunting parties. We need more than just shelter, we need supplies, food. The one thing we have a lot is water.” 

Cullen nodded but he remained by her side, joining her in her watch. The snowstorm had subsided somewhat though the wind howled a lonely song in the distance. The hair on the back of Cassandra’s neck stood up as she listened. It sounded like a chorus of voices were crying a dirge for the fallen, a lament for lives lost. 

“Why are you punishing yourself?” he asked eventually. “Come back to the camp, Seeker. There is nothing out there.”

_Isn’t there?_

The long she stood, the harder the clenching in her chest intensified. Cole’s words came back harder and stronger. 

> She believes. She trusts. 

Cassandra was a woman of action. She hated indecision but logic never worked so hard against her beliefs. But if she could believe in the Maker, if she could have faith in Andraste. Why not Trev? 

_Isn’t she the Herald?_

Cole stepped passed them. His wide brim hat at odds in the snowy landscape. He didn’t turn to speak to her. Instead his voice was projected out into the dark. 

“It tears, it aches. Why does she fight against what she knows is right?” Then he turned to her, his pale eyes bored into hers. “She waits. Cold like ice, stabbing and bleeding. She tries and tries. I can bring you to her.”

Cassandra’s leg jerked forward. She looked down, staring at the offending limb. But once moving, she couldn’t, wouldn’t stop. Her thoughts were clarified. Despite everything, she didn’t believe Trev was dead, not really. She hadn’t given up hope, not truly. 

_I should be looking for Trev._

She turned to Cullen and gripped his arm. “I’m going back. Tell the others.”

“Back where?” Cullen shouted as she strode forward, Cole falling in beside her. “Where are you going?”

“I’ve made a promise,” she hissed, her steps lengthening and picking up speed as she strode into the dark. “I’m going to keep it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hit me up on my [Tumblr](https://natsora.tumblr.com/). Kudos and comments are always welcomed!


	3. Walk a Lonely Road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trev was tired. Limbs were lead weight, body weary, bone deep pain with every step. Every mile she walked away from the boulder, her heart sank lower. There was no sign anyone passing this way. She couldn’t tell if she was heading the right way. Her memories were foggy at best, her thoughts stuttering. She whirled as she swore she heard the snarl of a dragon hidden in the howl of the wind. Her heart pounded as the boom as the first snow hit Haven echoed in her mind. 
> 
> _Shit._ She lifted her right hand to press against her eyes, her left hung uselessly by her side. _Why is my arm so painful, why is breathing hard? Why am I walking out here in the storm?_
> 
> She flinched as a paw patted her nose. Noisy’s orange eyes stared back, even his were dulled by cold. She tucked her nose against his fur and walked on. As much as she wanted to curl up somewhere and just sleep, she knew to stop was death. The thought of stopping was appealing but she felt she’d be letting someone, somewhere down so she kept moving. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Commissioned art by [Naeviss](https://naeviss.tumblr.com/). Check out her [Tumblr](https://naeviss.tumblr.com/), [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/naevissl/?hl=en) and [DeviantArt](https://www.deviantart.com/naeviss)

Trev was tired. Limbs were lead weight, body weary, bone deep pain with every step. Every mile she walked away from the boulder, her heart sank lower. There was no sign anyone passing this way. She couldn’t tell if she was heading the right way. Her memories were foggy at best, her thoughts stuttering. She whirled as she swore she heard the snarl of a dragon hidden in the howl of the wind. Her heart pounded as the boom as the first snow hit Haven echoed in her mind. 

_Shit._ She lifted her right hand to press against her eyes, her left hung uselessly by her side. _Why is my arm so painful, why is breathing hard? Why am I walking out here in the storm?_

She flinched as a paw patted her nose. Noisy’s orange eyes stared back, even his were dulled by cold. She tucked her nose against his fur and walked on. As much as she wanted to curl up somewhere and just sleep, she knew to stop was death. The thought of stopping was appealing but she felt she’d be letting someone, somewhere down so she kept moving. 

The storm had died down but the wind still stung her face. The tip of her nose and ears were painfully numb. Her fingers were icicles jammed into her armpits. And she was walking on stubs of ice. Her heart raced despite the slow trudging she did. Clouds of air puffing from her lips both warmed her and stole her warmth in the same breath. They came harder and faster than before, and it wasn’t just due to the pain. 

Step by step, rinse and repeat. Her head cloudy like her thoughts. _I’ll never be warm again._ Lift up and step down, another step completed. Now for the next one. _I’ll never see my brothers or father again._ Her side was throbbing now, no longer the numb patch it used to be. _I’ll never see the others again. Cassandra is going to be so disappointed she isn’t around to yell at me._ She chuckled as Cassandra’s signature glare and snort of displeasure floated up in her mind. 

Trev was distracted and tired. It was inevitable she’d end up facedown in the snow. The only incredible thing was it hadn’t already happened. Her foot found a rock under the snow. Cold dulled reflexes meant one thing. She threw her hands out, twisting to avoid her wound. The ground slammed into her and her vision greyed out. With a low groan of pain, her consciousness was fell away. 

* * *

Cassandra walked and walked and walked. Cole and his odd proclamations led the way. Even as she doubted her decision to trust the strange boy, she held on to her belief of Trev’s survival. 

_She’s alive._

“She is,” Cole confirmed as if reading her mind. 

Her eyes flickered to glare a hole to the back of Cole’s head. It was mostly obscured by his ridiculous hat. Cullen followed further behind, burdened by supplies she had neglected to collect before leaving. She chided herself and slowed to share the load. Cole didn’t. His steps lengthened as he forged on ahead, walking through snow with ease as if it was water. 

“Why are we out here?” Cullen asked as he handled her one of the packs. “It’s foolish to search out in the dark. We’re more likely to fall off this mountain than to find survivors.”

Cassandra bit back the snarl in her throat. “She’s still alive. We will find her.”

“Who?” he asked, his breathing growing laboured. “The Herald?”

_Trev is alive._

But she didn’t give voice to the belief. Cullen would have laughed, anyone would have, instead she kept her eyes ahead, staring at the tracks, making sure she didn’t miss her footing. 

“But the avalanche. Seeker, I am a man of faith but even this is too much,” he went on in the wake of her silence. 

She turned to face Cullen. His brown almost golden eyes were bright in the dim light. “I must believe she is alive. No, I believe she is—”

Her words were cut off when Cole gave a cry. Her hopes instantly rising, her breath quickened as the boy called out. “We must hurry. She doesn’t have long.”

_No, no, no._

“Are we close?”

“As far as we needed to be, as near as we can be,” Cole replied as if it made total sense. 

Cassandra ground her teeth together. There would be time enough to figure the boy out when Trev was safe again. Cole walked on, she struggled against fresh snow in his wake. Cullen followed, doubt slowing his steps, his heart tugging him back towards the camp while duty kept him at her side. She knew this was illogical. However, faith was nothing but illogical. 

“Hurry!” Cole called. 

“I am,” she growled, fighting the urge to smack him at the back of his head. Instead she turned her frustration to action. She surged ahead of Cole through sheer will, sweat beading at her forehead, her shirt getting damp. 

In the distance, there was yet another rock in the way, yet another thing barring her from getting to Trev. But as she fought through the snow towards it, a pair of gleaming orange eyes peeked out. She froze, hand immediately drawing her blade. If there were predators here, what else had Trev faced?

Her jaw tightened and refused to think about it. Action was what’s needed here. Thought could come later. 

A yowl pierced the silence. It was coming from the rock. Cassandra squinted. She realised the rock wasn’t hard edged or sharp. Another yowl rang out, this time louder. Instead of the warning she thought she was hearing, this was a cry for help. 

“Noisy?” she called out. 

The yowl tripled in volume. A patch of white rising from the snow, parting from the lump on the ground, walking towards her before turning back again. Another loud and grating yowl. 

_If Noisy is here, then that must be Trev._

Cassandra rushed forward, shealthing her sword. A flare of green lit up the gloom — the Anchor flared as if eager to see her. “Trev!” Hands reaching out to only find ice cold flesh. “No!” she growled. “Trev, wake up!”

But Trev’s eyes were firmly shut, ice and snow sealing them over. _No._ She wasn’t even shivering, all stiff and rigid. _No, no, no._ Her skin was practically blue. _We’re too late, we’re too late._ A keen was working its way up her throat when Cassandra remembered. She tugged Trev’s stiff arm straight and let go. She watched with bated breath. 

“Herald!” Cullen cried as he neared. “Maker, no.” 

“Hurry!” Cole urged, pacing around them. “Cold burns like fire.”

Trev’s arm retracted towards her chest, slowly but surely. Hope flared anew again. “Blankets,” Cassandra near shouted. “Where are the blankets?”

“But why?” Cullen stared back confused. “The Herald…”

“Just give it to me,” the command came out harshly. 

Cullen, ever the templar despite leaving the order, snapped to obey. He yanked roughly at his pack, dumping everything else out onto the snow and shoving the blanket into Cassandra’s waiting hands. The woollen blanket was quickly wrapped around Trev as the cat weaved between Cullen’s legs. He yelped in surprise but reached down to pick the cat up. 

She wrapped one arm around Trev’s chest, another under her legs and stood up slowly. Trev’s head lolled towards her chest. Maybe she imagined it, Trev looked as if she regained a little colour. But the first order of business was to get her back to camp. Everything else could come after. 

* * *

Her world shifted and jolted. Someone was panting hard, their breath hissed down on her. Her face was pressed against something hard and unyielding, rivets and sharp edges pressed uncomfortably against her skin but it was warm. Strong arms held her tight, like they were never going to let her go again. 

_Who?_ Thoughts drifted into her mind but they dissipated before she could hold onto them. 

Trev grunted and opened her eyes blearily. A hazy vision of whites and blacks, blending into greys, danced before her. Ahead were pinpricks of yellow flickering. _Light? Fire?_

She wanted to turn her head but the effort was too great. She settled for the view she had got. If she was getting kidnapped by the Elder One, it was way too comfortable. Eyes sagging shut again, she felt vibrations through the person’s chest as they spoke. 

“Cole, please go ahead and inform them,” the voice said. “We need healers. We don’t know how badly hurt the Herald is.”

Trev winced at the title unconsciously. But her mind kicked into gear. The accent was unmistakable, the bite of command with every word distinctive. 

_Cassandra._

She groaned as she twitched, trying to find the strength to move. What she had intended to achieve, she had no idea. There was just an overwhelming sense that she didn’t want to let anyone down. Being carried and being a burden was the further thing she wanted. 

“Herald, you’re awake. Thank the Maker,” Cassandra said. Palpable concern and fear were clear on her face. 

Trev regretted trying to move. It woke all the pain and aches. Her body reminding her in great detail everything she had put it through. A whimper bubbled up through her lips. Somewhere out of her field of vision, she heard a loud mew. “Stop moving around cat, your mistress is awake,” someone that sounded like Cullen said. 

“Hurts,” she whispered, her energy drained from the simple attempt to move. 

“Shhh…” Cassandra soothed, lips brushed against her ear. “Just rest, just rest. You’ve done enough. You can rest.” 

When Cassandra turned away, Trev lamented the loss of warmth. Commands were issued again, this time more curtly. “Cole, go now!” 

“Hold her tight, she feels safer,” came Cole’s reply. 

Cassandra didn’t speak again so she assumed Cole had left. But hands tightened their grip around her and she relaxed. She couldn’t tell how far they had come and how much further the camp was. But somewhere between Cole leaving and them reaching the camp, her mind grew foggy as her pulse throbbed loudly in her head. 

Cullen called out, “Cassandra, she’s bleeding.”

Footsteps faltered as Cassandra stopped. Then her grip shifted. The motion jolted Trev and she cried out. The wound that ran through her side twisted. Apologies tumbled from Cassandra’s lips but her pace picked up immediately. The increased speed rocked her broken body. 

“I don’t feel so good,” she said as black spots dotted her vision. 

“Just hold on, we’re almost there.”

But Trev didn’t hear it as she sank into blissful, pain-free unconsciousness again. 

* * *

Cassandra’s chest was tight, so tight it felt her heart had no space to beat. Cole was there, beckoning her into one of the larger tents. She burst through and saw it had been cleared out. Stitches from Bull’s company was there ready and waiting. Cullen muttered something about reporting to the rest of the advisors. 

She placed Trev gently down on the table set in the middle of the tent. Though her muscles were screaming how long she had been carrying Trev, her hands were unwilling to relinquish their burden. As she staggered backwards, having the benefit of the lit lamps for illumination, it was then she realised how much blood had stained the blanket and her armour. Stitches pushed her aside as he pulled the blanket away. A sharp blade parted Trev’s gambeson next. She stared. They were caught with their beeches around their ankles. Just when they thought themselves victorious, the Elder One dealt them the harshest blow. 

And Trev paid a high price. 

It was amazing she came through it alive at all. _This is indisputable proof she’s Andraste’s chosen_

Stitches cursed as he stripped Trev’s gambeson off, leaving her lying so still, looking so pale on the table in just her breast band and blood stained beeches. 

“Help me,” he said. “I need to turn her.”

“Why?” she cried. “We should warm her up and give her healing potions!”

“No!” he shouted. “Healing potions now would just heal her wrong. She obviously had something pierced through her side. I need to remove all splinters and debris before we give her the healing potion. We don’t want foreign materials sealed inside her. I need to check her back.”

Cassandra, torn between moving to help him and getting Solas to somehow magically heal Trev back to full health, stood motionless staring at him. 

“Are you the healer or am I the healer?” Stitches demanded. 

And that broke her from inaction. She yanked her soiled gloves off with her teeth and bent over. Trev was mercifully still out. However as they turned her, she groaned, eyes fluttering. 

“Maker,” Cassandra gasped as she saw the wound. In all her time as Seeker, she had seen combat and received her fair share of wounds and injuries. Trev’s was by far one of the worst she had seen on a person who was still breathing. 

Red, raw and gaping. A hole the diameter of a mage’s staff was punched through her side. The sliced open gambeson was still stuck to her skin, held there by both ice and blood. Stitches sighed. He hastily wet the area to work some of the dried blood away before gently tugging it loose. But the mere brush of water against the wound made Trev jerked. Her eyes snapped open and her hands clawed the air as a scream rippled from her throat. Cassandra hurried over and held her hands, stilling them. 

“It’s ok. You’re safe, we’re just trying to treat your wounds.” She couldn’t tell if the words were for herself or Trev. 

But Trev didn’t seem to hear her instead she flinched away from Stiches’ touch. “Cold,” she groaned, her teeth chattering. “I’m cold.” Shivers wrecked her body, every single one tearing at the wound. “Hurts.”

“Can’t you do anything?” Cassandra demanded. She turned to leave the tent, ready to bring Solas here. It was only Trev’s weak grip that anchored her to the spot. 

Stitches pulled the blankets that they had heaped upon Trev away. She whimpered, shaking harder. 

“What are you doing?”

“She’s bleeding out, warming her up now is going to kill her before I can close this wound,” he spat. 

Trev’s brown eyes stared at her, imploring, begging for help. There was a snap, inaudible but sharp, Cassandra felt it in her chest. It ached terribly. Protests were gathering at the tip of her tongue as her eyes snapped to Stitches. But the tent flap opened, a rush of cold air filled the place and Trev moaned, eyes sagging shut. 

Solas and Leliana entered. Cassandra heaved a sigh of relief. The apostate, despite his outward appearance, was skilled in healing. He would be able to heal Trev without making her suffer so. 

“He’s right,” Solas said, rushing over to Trev’s side. “I’ve depleted my mana. I don’t have much reserves left. But I will aid you in what I can.”

“What about lyrium potions?”

“We’ve gone through them all healing the other survivors. Solas has been working tirelessly since we left Haven.”

“What about the other mages?”

Leliana shook her head, her lips pressed into a grim line.

Cassandra’s jaw tightened. The lines across Solas’ forehead looked as if they were etched into the sharp plains of his face. They weren’t there in all the battles they had fought together. To see how spent he looked was sobering. Despite that, to say she was disappointed was an understatement. She took a deep breath and blew it out in a sharp huff. 

Solas conferred with Stitches, who produced a number of metal instruments. They all looked sharp and painful, gleaming in the flickering lamp light inside the tent. Whispers between the healers floating in the silence. Between that and Trev’s laboured breathing, Cassandra couldn’t push away the fear that took up residence in her chest. _Maybe I am still too late after all._

Leliana pressed a palm on her shoulder and squeezed it. She took solace in the support but it wasn’t she who needed it most. Trev’s eyes were closed but her face tightened in a grimace as she endured. Looking down on her, Cassandra gathered the trembling and suffering young woman into her arms as tenderly as she could. She prayed. 

_O Maker, hear my cry:  
Guide me through the blackest nights._

Trev’s trembling increased as they held her down. Instruments reaching into the wound, prying it open. Muffled screams burst through clamped shut lips, eyes looking for not seeing, that’s how out of it Trev was. She bucked and struggled but with her waning strength, she was no match for Leliana holding her down. Stitches worked. 

_Steel my heart against the temptations of the wicked.  
Make me to rest in the warmest places._

Piece by piece, silver by silver, Stitches pulled splintered wood, bits of metal and general dirt from the wound. He washed and cleaned. Solas kept an eye on Trev. Hand pressing against her forehead at times, fingers against her neck at others. “Hurry,” he urged. “We can’t keep her cold for too long either.”

Stitches nodded and worked feverishly. Minutes stretched. When he finally sighed and stepped back, Solas took over and held his hands over the wound. Muscles and flesh knitted themselves together but before it was completely closed, he sank to his knees, almost in a faint. Leliana was all that separated him from the cold hard ground. 

“I’m sorry,” he gasped. “This is all I can do. Perhaps once I’ve recovered I can do more.”

Stitches took over what Solas couldn’t complete. Needle and thread replaced magic. Prick by prick, flesh was sealed shut again. A black line marked the path of what would have been Trev’s death. 

Cassandra sighed. “Will she be all right?”

Solas shook his head. “Trevelyan isn’t out of the woods yet. Her ribs are broken and we need to get her warm quickly now.”

As Stitches wrapped a heavy bandage around Trev’s wound and ribs, Cullen burst in. “I found this. It’s last one.”

In his hand was a small bottle of rejuvenation potion. It wasn’t ideal but it had to do. Cassandra near snatched it out of Cullen’s hand, muttering her thanks as she turned to Trev. By then, Trev was asleep or unconscious again. The entire ordeal had rung her out. 

Cassandra propped Trev’s head up, her jaw opened slightly. Just as she was about to slowly tip the contents into Trev’s mouth. Solas shouted, “No! You can’t give it to her this way.”

She froze. 

“It’s too cold. It will only serve to chill her further,” Solas said. 

Leliana moved quickly to layer blankets over Trev now that Stitches had finished dressing the more serious of Trev’s wounds. But wrapped up under piles of blankets did nothing for the blue tinge on her lips. 

“Then what?” Patience gone, only frustration and anxiety remained. “We can’t boil it, it will only render the potion useless.”

Solas grimaced and sighed. “We have to warm the potion up to body temperature. There is one way to achieve this quickly.”

“What? Just tell me.” Words lashing out like a whip. 

“Someone has to hold it in their mouth and transfer it to the Herald once it reaches body temperature,” Solas said. 

Silence was the only response as slowly all eyes turned to her. Cassandra’s brow tightened but she tugged the cork from the bottle. Without hesitation, she poured a portion into her mouth and held it in. 

It was cold and bitter. It had the sharp tang of rashvine, and earthy and bitter tones of elfroot bit the insides of her mouth. Cassandra fought the urge to swallow just to be rid of the taste. She held onto it, looking ridiculous with her mouth puffed up. But she couldn’t afford to be self consciousness, not when Trev’s life was on the line. 

Even in unconscious from blood loss and surgery, Trev’s face creased and twitched. The Anchor flared and sparked a brilliant green in response. Solas staggered towards Trev’s side and covered her left palm with his own, muttering Elvish as he bent his head down over her hand. After a moment, the Anchor calmed and Solas bound Trev’s hand before pushing it back under the layers of blankets. 

Cassandra gestured towards Leliana as the men left the tent. Leliana was quick to catch on what she needed. She swore Leliana’s mouth perked up, as if this was all amusing somehow. Cassandra dismissed the thought, concentrating on Trev instead. Leliana propped Trev up, pressing a finger on her chin, holding her mouth open. And Cassandra bent over and pressed her lips on Trev’s blue tinged ones. 

  
At first, she let more of the potion dribbled down Trev’s chest than into her mouth, embarrassed at how this must be done. But she shoved the awkwardness aside. She was just doing what must be done. To save a life, discomfort shouldn’t be a factor. Bit by bit, the potion was transferred to Trev. Leliana massaged Trev’s throat to make sure it was all swallowed. 

Cassandra exhaled deeply after she did it for the final time. The empty potion bottle lay forgotten on the floor. Lips pressed against lips, she tried to will warmth down Trev’s throat as she cupped the back of Trev’s head to steady her. As she pulled away, Trev sighed. It was a noise of relief, one that she echoed. 

Between Leliana and herself, they gingerly moved Trev onto a cot so that she’ll rest easier. The table was removed from the tent, Cassandra could no longer bear to look at the blood stained surface. 

“Her colour is much better,” she remarked. “But she’s still cold. We need to warm her up.”

Cassandra started stripping down into her breast band and smalls while Leliana did the same for Trev. Through hard won experience, she knew this was the fastest way to warm a body up. Trev’s clothes were all wet and soiled by dirt, blood and melted snow. It was no wonder she wasn’t warming up properly. After Leliana pulled Trev’s sodden boots off, Cassandra got into the cot and pressed up against Trev mindful of her wounds. She couldn’t help the shudder down her spine as she reached out to drag Trev closer, finding nothing but chilled skin and frozen flesh. Her chest ached again, that unidentifiable sorrow squeezed her heart.

Leliana tucked them under the blankets. “I’ll check in on you soon,” she said before leaving, tying the flaps of the tent shut.

Now that they’re alone, with Trev’s back against her chest, her hands wrapped around Trev’s gingerly, she could feel the steady thud of Trev’s heart beat under her palm. She couldn’t help but count the beats. As her eyes sagged shut, exhaustion finally stealing over her, she pressed her cheek into Trev’s cold back. 

“I’m sorry I was so late.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hit me up on my [Tumblr](https://natsora.tumblr.com/). Kudos and comments are always welcomed!


	4. A Black Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassandra sighed as her eyes peeled open. Light was starting to stream into the tent from the outside. _Dawn._ She blinked slowly as she tried to remember what woke her. The noise came again. It was a low moan of pain. 
> 
> _Trev!_
> 
> She remembered enough to move slowly, untangling her arms around Trev’s still a little chilly skin. She propped herself up on an elbow and looked. Trev was still unconscious but the crease between her brow was deep. Pain, it seemed, still reached through to torment her. 
> 
> Just as Cassandra was about to rise from the cot, she heard a strange but familiar noise. Purring, loud and obnoxious. Eyes narrowed, she glanced around but she couldn’t find the cat in question. Trev moaned again and it spurred her into action. 
> 
> Cassandra shivered a little as she left the warmth of the blanket, mindful to tuck it over Trev. As she rounded the cot, she saw what was causing Trev pain. 
> 
> The cat was curled up against Trev’s ribs, applying pressure where none should be. She growled low in her throat. And that caught the cat’s attention. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Commissioned art by [Naeviss](https://naeviss.tumblr.com/). Check out her [Tumblr](https://naeviss.tumblr.com/), [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/naevissl/?hl=en) and [DeviantArt](https://www.deviantart.com/naeviss)

Cassandra sighed as her eyes peeled open. Light was starting to stream into the tent from the outside. _Dawn._ She blinked slowly as she tried to remember what woke her. The noise came again. It was a low moan of pain. 

_Trev!_

She remembered enough to move slowly, untangling her arms around Trev’s still a little chilly skin. She propped herself up on an elbow and looked. Trev was still unconscious but the crease between her brow was deep. Pain, it seemed, still reached through to torment her. 

Just as Cassandra was about to rise from the cot, she heard a strange but familiar noise. Purring, loud and obnoxious. Eyes narrowed, she glanced around but she couldn’t find the cat in question. Trev moaned again and it spurred her into action. 

Cassandra shivered a little as she left the warmth of the blanket, mindful to tuck it over Trev. As she rounded the cot, she saw what was causing Trev pain. 

The cat was curled up against Trev’s ribs, applying pressure where none should be. She growled low in her throat. And that caught the cat’s attention. 

Lord Noisy, as Trev had named him, opened his eyes and stared at her. Bright orange like the intense heat of a flame studied her. Intelligence plain in his eyes. Cassandra reached out to grab him but it was only met with a swipe of his claws. Her hands jerked back instantly and the claws found no target. 

Lord Noisy hissed and tried to work his way backwards against Trev, seeking his mistress’ protection. The motion only served to make Trev whimper. 

“You’re hurting your mistress, cat,” Cassandra hissed angrily.

Noisy’s tail slashed the air between them. Neither would give in. Cassandra was a slayer of dragons, she wasn’t about to bow to a cat of all creatures. 

First, Trev’s comfort was paramount. But it didn’t do for her to be prancing around practically naked and fight with the cat at the same time. She dressed quickly and turned Trev gently onto her back. This displaced the cat who started circling around the cot, keeping near Trev but avoiding Cassandra. 

Trev breathed a little easier, the furrow between her brow eased. Cassandra glared at Noisy and the cat returned it in kind. She wasn’t a fool, she had dealt with difficult animals before. The trick was to lull them into a sense of security. She turned her back towards Trev and pretended to be tending to her packs but really she was keeping an eye on the cat. 

_Success._

Noisy traipsed back towards Trev, at first attempting to burrow under the blankets to share the warmth. But he was thwarted by how tightly Cassandra had cocooned Trev. A satisfied smile tugged at her lips as she watched. 

But Noisy moved quick. With a light step, he leapt onto Trev, landing onto her middle. The groan that came from Trev’s lips made her chest clenched so tight, Cassandra was sure her heart had stopped. 

_That did it. No mercy._

She jumped into action, hands flashing out, heedless of claws and fangs bared her way. She grabbed Noisy by the scruff of his neck and with a hand supporting his body, she tugged him off Trev. The resulting yowl startled her. Footsteps approached quickly from the outside. 

“What’s going on?” The flaps snapped open.

Cassandra spun to find Leliana staring at her. Noisy was showing why he was named that. 

“Maker! I was sure Trev had woke up in pain or something,” she went on, eyes darting to check on Trev first. 

Despite the noise, Trev was still out. Hopefully, she was sleeping and not unconscious. 

“Leliana, please help me,” she hissed, thrusting the struggling angry cat towards Leliana. 

Leliana sighed and took over. Noisy immediately calmed down when Leliana touched him. The white cat was so large, he was literally overflowing from her arms. Leliana shook her head. “I don’t know what happened but I think I shall keep Lord Noisy,” Cassandra rolled her eyes at Leliana’s use of the cat’s name, “out of Trev’s tent for a while. But are you sure you’re not overreacting?”

“I’m not,” Cassandra snapped. “The cat is just overly attached to Trev.”

“From what Cullen told me, he saved her life.”

Cassandra bushed her hands over her clothes, sending white fur all over. She sighed. “He did.”

“Peace?” She reached out but Noisy swiped at her hand, this time scoring three lines across her palm. 

“Maybe a little later, when he had calmed down.”

Cassandra snorted and shook her head. “Just get him out of here, he was sitting against Trev’s wounds.”

Leliana chuckled and left. Cassandra lingered, eyes gazing on Trev’s still form. She reached down to push the stray strands of hair from Trev’s face. Trev moaned slightly despite Noisy removed. She frowned wondering if she got it all wrong, that Noisy was merely trying to keep his mistress warm. A snort of frustration shot from her nose as she filed the thought away. Instead her hand pressed lightly against Trev’s forehead, relief to find it was warm to the touch. “Wake up soon. Let us know you’re all right.”

* * *

Everyone took advantage of the lull in their relentless march in search for permanent shelter to rest and recover. Hunters were sent out. Scouts ventured forth. Wounded rested. The healers began to brew new batches of healing potions. 

Trev got the first bottle. Once it was cooled enough, Cassandra fed the bitter potion via a piece of cloth to Trev. Leliana cradled the unconscious Herald as she squeezed the cloth. Drop by drop, she was unwilling to waste a single bit. As Trev’s throat worked to swallow, the tightness around Cassandra’s chest eased a little. 

Cassandra gave up preventing the invasion by Lord Noisy. It was either suffer the cat’s loud yowls of displeasure and risk disturbing what rest Trev needed, or allowing the cat into the tent. She watched him just as he did her. As Noisy curled up against Trev’s chest, her breathing seemed to even out a little. 

“Seems I’ve falsely accused you. You weren’t hurting her, you were keeping her warm,” she whispered to the cat. “Will you accept my peace offering?” Her hand reached out with a strip of dried fish. 

Noisy’s orange eyes narrowed dangerously but his nose twitched curiously. Cassandra inched forward slowly, giving him ample time to show his refusal. But his mouth open daintily and took the strip from her fingers. She chuckled. “I guess it’s a truce?” 

Noisy made no reply but chewed on his treat. 

For two days, the survivors rested and recuperated as best as they could. During this time, Cassandra made sure to feed Trev as many healing potions as Solas would allow. But Trev never woke once. Worry and anxiety was slowly creeping back into her every time Solas or Dorian checked on Trev. 

“She wakes when her body is healed enough,” Solas said. “All we can do is wait.”

But waiting was what Cassandra did worst. Night came as it inevitably did, the wind picked up. A hand pressed against Trev confirmed her fears. Trev was cold. She stripped and joined Trev in the cot again. If all she could do was wait, she’d make sure Trev did not get cold ever. 

* * *

Consciousness were waves lapping against the shore of Trev’s mind. The muted sounds of the greater world outside the layers of fabric she was swaddled in intruded. Voices muffled, feet shuffling and the gentle whoosh of wind outside. Reluctantly as she was to open her eyes, she peeled them opened. Her eyelids were gunk up by sleep and dried tears. It took several tries to get them to co-operate. Face, half smushed against the cot as she lay on her side, she managed to get one eye open. She concluded she was inside a tent. Frowning, she tried to jog her memory. 

A flash of green and the familiar snap of a closing rift. Those, she remembered. Lights lit up the side of the mountains as an army descended. A dragon roared as a village burnt. Searing pain as a tall looming figure attempted to pull the Anchor from her arm. At that, her left palm sparked green in response. She gasped softly, more from shock than any real pain. Underneath the blankets, she could feel the bandages wrapped around her hand. 

Before she could unravel the loose strands of her memories, she realised she wasn’t alone. Something pressed against her front. White and warm and furry. The purring was unmistakable. _Noisy._ She nuzzled her nose against the weight, Noisy purred louder.

Then, she frowned. There was someone else behind her. Corded muscled arms wrapped around her middle. Their grip loose enough not to feel constricting but tight enough to make her feel held, safe and secure. A pair of legs pressed against the back of hers, dragging skin against skin, pulling themselves over hers. Her breath hitched as she went rigid. The slight jerk woke the pain against her broken ribs and the barely mended wound. But more than that were her fingers and toes, they hurt like someone had taken a brand to them. They were nothing except numb before, but now they screamed.

She couldn’t hold back the gasp of exhaled pain. The body behind her stiffened in response. Their breathing changed, slow and even before to nothing, as if they were holding their breath. Trev took shallow breaths, trying to keep from crying out. It wasn’t going too well as whimpers escaped her lips.

“Herald?” they called out in a whisper. “Are you awake?”

Their accent was clear. Cassandra. 

Trev couldn’t help the knee jerk reaction to groan, only in part due to the title. 

Cassandra launched herself up from the shared cot and knelt down beside her. “Are you in pain? Shall I get Solas? Do you need another healing potion?”

Noisy stiffened and pressed harder against her chest while Trev’s watering eyes went wide as she stared at the sight before her. Words failed her as she blinked. Cassandra was practically naked. The sight seemed to shock the sensation of pain away for a few seconds. The Seeker assumed her silence meant she was in too much pain to even speak. Cassandra rose to her feet in one fluid motion, making her way towards the opening of the tent, when Trev finally found her voice. 

“Cassandra, wait,” she called out, voice hoarse and raw.

Hand on the flap, Cassandra turned back. 

“You’re not wearing anything,” she blurted. 

The blush that flashed up the Seeker’s face was incredible. The typically darker complexion of Cassandra’s skin turned red as she flinched back from the tent flaps to quickly dress. “Herald,” she said curtly. “I’ll be back shortly.”

“But—” And Cassandra was gone. The tent felt empty. “Can I have some water?”

Trev sighed and pulled her hands up to her face. The tips of her fingers were all swollen and red. Tears leaked from her eyes as she stared at them. As much as she wanted to curl up in a ball, the notion was quickly aborted. Every single move tugged at the bundle of agony at her side. Cold sweat beaded her forehead and she was feeling light headed even from the slight motion. Noisy levelled his orange eyes on her before he started pressed his face against hers. The physical contact helped but the pain still overrode all other sensations.

It didn’t take long before Solas entered with Cassandra in his wake. He looked upon Trev with something akin with relief. “How are you feeling?” 

“Everything hurts,” she confessed, lifting her fingers up towards Solas. Trev was never a fan of magic. She had a live and let live attitude towards mages. As long as magic wasn’t wielded against her, or on her, she was good with it. But now, she’ll take it if Solas could provide her relief. “Why are my fingers like this?”

He took her hands gently and examined them. “Frostbite,” he declared. “The cold had damaged them and now that they are warm again, it will hurt.”

Trev wanted to wail but settled for a low groan, half muffled against Noisy. Ostwick was never very cold, even their winters were mild. But ever since the explosion at the Conclave, being forced to stay at Haven, it was as cold as a place she had ever lived in. And she never enjoyed temperatures this low. 

Cassandra interjected, “Don’t we have something to ease her pain?”

“We’re already gathering herbs and brewing fresh batches of healing potions but given the circumstances it will be a couple more days before they are ready.” He grimaced as he rubbed at his temples. “But I can spare a little healing. It’s not much.”

Cassandra looked at her as if seeking her permission. But at this point, she didn’t care. Solas pressed a hand against her hands and she flinched at the pressure. A bright glow burnt her eyes before she could squeeze them shut. The immediate pain of her fingers and toes eased, even the pain around her middle seemed calmer. Trev breathed a little easier and Noisy settled to rest against her.

“We should check her for other wounds. These frostbites needs to be bandaged.” 

Cassandra was instantly at her side. Strangely, she spoke to Noisy who, surprisingly, listened and understood. Noisy hopped off the cot and found a spot among their packs. He laid down, but his eyes were ever watchful as Cassandra helped her into a sitting position. 

Every motion ginger, every touch gentle, but still Trev gasped and wheezed. She leaned heavily on Cassandra, forehead against chest as bandages were unwinded from her abdomen. Fingers, long and strong, swept her loose black locks away from her sweat dotted face. Nevarran accented voice whispered a constant string of encouragements into her ear. Trev could barely register the words but took comfort in Cassandra’s steadiness. 

Solas poked and prodded. He asked questions. Trev managed to grunt her way through them. In the end, he rose to his feet. “I think the poultice would do well for her other wounds. And though she has no fever, but we should watch for it,” he concluded. 

Cassandra nodded, already applying the poultice to her wound. Trev hissed at the coolness against her skin. “What about her ear?”

That made Trev lift her head to look at the pair. “What about my ear?” She’d raised her hand up to touch but the motion would only aggravate her side. It was already taking all her effort to remain upright. Between Solas and Cassandra, they worked to redress her wounds with a fresh application of the poultice. If she couldn’t help. she shouldn’t hinder but the mention of her ear bothered her. 

“What about my ear?” she asked again. 

Solas shifted as he bent over, reaching towards her face. Trev inched back instinctively. 

“He’s trying to examine it,” Cassandra soothed, pressing a hand against her back, her palm warm against Trev’s skin. 

She relaxed and nodded. Solas’ fingers probed firmly against her neck, slowly making its way up to her earlobe. He even brushed against the helix of her ear. She could feel it all, and then nothing. Nothing at all. There wasn’t even pressure, just nothing. “Are you still touching my ear?” she asked, voice shaking as her eyes darted about. Anxiety tightened her muscles, hiking up her pulse.

Cassandra’s touch wasn’t helping anymore. She wasn’t one for dissembling, her face told Trev everything. Something was wrong with her ear, the left one. But it wasn’t painful, wasn’t that good? And she said as much. 

Solas’ sigh was telling. “Trevelyan, we’ll monitor your ear. I’ll confer with Stitches but the best we can hope is for it to drop off on its own.”

Trev’s breath hitched, her mind going wild. Cassandra’s grip on her tightened instinctively.

“Meanwhile, I’ll say we shouldn’t move you for at least a week, but this isn’t the best place to recover, especially from exposure to the cold,” he went on, frustration colouring his voice. “So I’ll leave that decision to the Seeker and the others.”

With that, he swept out. By then, she was shivering again, partly from the cold, partly from the pain but mostly from worry and anxiety. She closed her eyes, still leaning against Cassandra as she tried to will her wounds and this infernal cold away. 

Trev concentrated on the warmth radiating from Cassandra. The Seeker was a rock, immovable and solid. It was the anchor she needed. There was a natural musk about a person when one had been working. It’s a scent of good clean work, of sweat and effort. And that’s what Cassandra smelt like now and reminded her of all the times they traveled out together from Haven. 

_Haven. Gone, buried under snow._ She sighed deeply only to have her breath hitched mid-way through it, her ribs protesting against the motion. 

“Trev,” Cassandra called, her tone urgent and more than a little concerned, as if this wasn’t the first time she called out. 

She lifted her head as Cassandra laid a hand against her bare shoulder. Trev peeled her eyes open, mind fuzzy. “Huh?” 

“Let’s get you lying down again.”

“Ok,” Trev’s mouth went dry at the prospect of moving. “Can we go slowly?”

“Of course.” Cassandra eased her backwards. Her head lifted away from Cassandra’s chest enough that their eyes met. 

“Sorry,” Trev mumbled. She wasn’t sure for what or why but she just felt a deep need to apologise. Maybe it’s for the help she needed, or the burden she had become. 

Cassandra near recoiled at it. “No, don’t apologise,” she replied firmly, her gaze tender. This was the woman who observed. And her temper and apparent foul mood was merely a sign of how much she cared. 

Trev grunted. “I…” Words failed her, her thoughts turned hazy as she frowned. Her body stiffening at the impending pain as she made the transition to laying down. 

Cassandra noticed it. Her voice low and reassuring, “Trust me?”

Two words, just two and it reminded Trev of the promise Cassandra made and fulfilled. This was the woman who had her back, who came back for her. Despite the blizzard, despite all evidence that she hadn’t survived, she wouldn’t have believed she lived but Cassandra did. Now, Cassandra was asking for her trust again. It was a promise and the Seeker always kept her promises. 

Trev nodded and whispered, “Ok.”

By the time they, Cassandra more than Trev, got Trev lying on her good side, her breaths came shallow and quick. Blankets were layered over her but without Cassandra pressed against her back, the cot somehow felt too large. 

“Trev?”

She grunted, it was all she could managed but her eyes tracking Cassandra’s motions. Cassandra sighed sinking down to putting her level to Trev’s face.

“Thank you,” Cassandra rasped. 

Trev frowned. “But I didn’t do anything. You kept me alive. You came back for me.”

Surprise then guilt flickered across Cassandra’s face, eventually settled on anger. Trev couldn’t help but shrank back. But as Cassandra looked at her, the anger went away. It was a fury directed at herself. Trev’s lips parted, words poised to probe, to figure things out on the tip of her tongue but Cassandra shook her head. “You need your rest. We’ll talk more when you’ve recovered.”

Trev could only watch Cassandra go. The tent flaps fell shut. Inside, she couldn’t help but feel things were a little darker, the shadows a little heavier. 

Sleep was already dragging against her despite the confusion Cassandra left her. Noisy padded over, satisfied the entire commotion was over. He planted himself against her head. His face against hers. She sighed, too tired to fight sleep. Her eyelids slid shut and allowed sleep to pull her back into its embrace. 

* * *

Cassandra walked beside a sledge. These were hastily constructed to transport the wounded. This one was being pulled by a horse as muffled hisses and gasps came from Trev. She laid curled on it, swaddled with layers of blankets. The cold was mostly kept at bay with the help of a constant exchange of small rocks super heated by the mages. But the rocky and steep inclines made for a hard journey regardless one was riding in a sledge or not. Clutched in Trev’s hand was her book, half opened in a vain attempt at reading. 

Trev when bored had two modes. The first was an endless string of complaints with anything and everything that’s wrong. In this case, how cold it was. But anything that truly bothered her, she’d keep to herself. The second was a sullen silence when she grew tired of speaking. Coupled pain, she could be downright difficult to deal with. But then again, Cassandra wasn’t a model patient herself at the best of times. She found the book among the various items they had salvaged in their hastily retreat from Haven. It was what she considered one of Varric’s lesser works, but it would do to keep Trev occupied. Or at least that was the plan. 

“What is this?” Trev asked sourly from her back, craning her neck at the book Cassandra was handing her. The sledge was stationary, the horse unhitched to find forage wherever it could. The others were resting and having their midday meal. She was careful not to step on Trev or the cat as she sought a spot to sit. Not bothering to answer just yet, she pulled out a strip of dried fish to chew on. Noisy stood instantly, bumping his massive head against her crossed legs. 

Trev muttered something that sounded incredibly like “Traitor.”

Cassandra ate and ignored Noisy for the most part as he paced around her, meowing loudly as he went. Trev turned the book around in one hand, her eyes flicking between Noisy and herself while her other hand rubbed against the tip of her left ear. It was still bothering her but she did not speak a single word about it despite her eloquence regarding everything else. 

Noisy meowed, well, noisily. Trev sighed. “Give him some of your food if you’re going to tempt him.”

Cassandra blinked. “Oh that was why he is being so loud?” She tore a portion and handed over. Noisy ripped it from her grip as if it was a hostage exchange and rounded over to the other side of Trev to consume it at his leisure. 

“The Dasher’s Men? Is this one of Varric’s works?” Trev asked, running her hand over the cover worn smooth by years and hands.

Cassandra couldn’t help the flush creeping up her neck, praying to the Maker Trev wouldn’t notice. 

“Are you blushing, Seeker?” 

She sighed, count on Trev’s keen eyes to catch it. “Yes, this is one of Varric’s works. What of it?” Her words curt, wielded like a baton to ward of potential teasing. 

Trev shrugged and winced. The motion pulled at her wound. “No, I am just surprised is all. Is it good?”

“Passable, but not his best work.”

Trev chuckled. “What’s your favourite?” She opened the book, the spine cracked and the pages crackled. Eyes already skimming over the words before looking up. 

Cassandra narrowed her eyes. The question felt like a trick, like one of the pranks Sera loved to play. But this was Trev, though she joined Sera in her pranks, she was never malicious. “I prefer Hard in Hightown,” the admission came out hushed like it was a confession. 

“A romance then.”

“Yes. Does it matter? Am I not allowed to enjoy romances?” Cassandra snapped defensively. “There is passion, there is tension. There are grand gestures where the lady is swept off her feet by the hero. Must romances only be enjoyed by ladies in Orlesian courts behind their fluttering eyelashes and schemes?” Her chest was heaving slightly as she ended her tirade. 

Trev’s eyes were wide as she stared, recoiling a little. “No,” she almost squeaked. “I was just curious. That’s all.”

Embarrassment made Cassandra snapped to her feet. She stepped off the sledge. “I should go see if Cullen needs my help.”

“But the book?” Trev called out. 

“It’s yours. I’ve read it many times. Read it when you’re bored.” And she fled. 

So Trev read for the rest of that day. Her complaints evaporated as she was absorbed in the adventures contained within. But travelling through into the Frostbacks wasn’t easy even if one wasn’t injured. There were no roads where they travelled and the path the survivors forged weren’t the best. When that happened, there was no reading, there weren’t any complains either, only whimpers of pain spilling in clamped tight lips. Cassandra would give anything not to hear that from Trev again. 

But Cassandra wasn’t always by Trev’s sledge, she ranged forward and back, checking in with Cullen and the soldiers, providing directions, delegating work and making sure stragglers weren’t left behind. But no matter how far she went, how long she was kept away, the elastic band between herself and Trev would always snapped back, tugging her to return. 

* * *

It was a rough day. Cassandra panted as she laboured up a rock. She shielded her eyes as she surveyed the road ahead. More uneven paths, a decided lack of snow for smooth sledge travel. 

_Maker, we could all use a little luck right now._

The band around her chest tightened. She turned to find Trev’s sledge. Somehow, her eyes always honed in on it easily. It was in the middle of the party surrounded by a few of their companions. 

Cassandra jumped off the rock and made a beeline towards it. The only thing visible was the top of Trev’s head, black hair no longer in her usual braid. Strands fell loosely over her sweat sheen forehead. With them on the move, it meant there was no time to brew more healing potions. Dorian, Vivienne and Solas provided what they were able, but even they were taxed to their limits. And the stubborn fool solidly refused if it meant someone else went without. It was a trek of misery for her.

Days were burst of tasks for Cassandra, time passed quickly for her. But Trev had none of that luxury. As they travelled on, reading was impossible given the paths they were on. But nights were no better. 

When the party stopped for the night, Trev was faced with the prospect of moving from sledge to tent. Even as she grew stronger, standing or sitting up without help was hard. But she bored it all as well as she could, with a constant string of apologies that tightened the band around Cassandra’s chest. Cassandra knew from experience wounds heal better if the patient was allowed some activity. And merely walking to and from the sledge wasn’t quite enough, especially since Trev was a warrior and would be expected to return the battlefield again. 

“Do we really have to do this?” Trev complained, one hand gripping her shoulder tightly, the other stretched out for balance. 

“Yes,” she replied curtly, even her resolve not to lose patience had its limits. “You don’t want your muscles to stiffen. It will affect how you fight later. You can’t be lying on your back all the time.”

Trev huffed, concentrating on getting to the fire where Varric sat with a bowl of soup waiting for her. “This is all unnecessarily hard.”

“I’ve never promised this to be easy.”

Noisy went ahead, trilling for food from Varric and the others. Trev hastened trying to shorten this laborious walk. But she stumbled over her own feet. But Cassandra’s grip around Trev’s waist was sure, her watch vigilant. Trev would not fall, not on her watch. _I won’t fail the Herald again._ A soft gasp ghosted against her face as she tugged Trev towards her. They held on, one to steady, the other to find their feet. Short, sharp pants were pressed into her chest as Trev rode out the pain with eyes squeezed shut. Cassandra could see the tears welling up from her eyes. And instantly she wondered if she was pushing Trev too hard. Guilt tightened the band again. How much of this could be avoided if she had not let Trev do it all alone? 

“Thank you,” Trev eventually whispered as she started walking again, much slowly this time. Cassandra’s only answer was to tighten her grip on Trev. 

“Snowrider,” Varric called. “Come have a seat.”

Noisy yowled as Varric’s gesturing arms narrowly missed him. He trotted off angrily to find another’s lap to sit in. 

“Snowrider?” Trev asked as she eased herself gently onto the log. “Are you still trying to find me a nickname?”

“Hmmm… Snowrider doesn’t sound right either,” Varric mused. “I swear I’ll find something.”

Cassandra stood hovering at the edges for a moment longer before blurting, “I should see if Leliana or Cullen needs help.”

She missed how Trev turned towards her, her name dying on her lips, how Trev looked a little more lost without her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hit me up on my [Tumblr](https://natsora.tumblr.com/). Kudos and comments are always welcomed!


	5. Your Strength

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As she passed the advisors’ tent, she heard a familiar voice. 
> 
> “Enough!” Cassandra barked. “This is going nowhere. We need the scouts to venture out further. Assign them the supplies they need to do this. We’ll stay here till we have a clear direction. There is good hunting in this area and we’re near a water source. This is as good a place as any.”
> 
> Cassandra stomped outside, boots crunched snow and rocks underfoot, fuming. Even from a distance, Trev could see the frustration buzzing through the cold air. With the signature frown creasing Cassandra’s brow, she half expected to hear Cassandra’s grunt of displeasure as her steps slowed. But before she could headover, Leliana called out and sat beside Cassandra. Trev aborted the gesture. Cassandra didn’t need her hovering around, being a burden. The advisors were busy enough trying to decide what’s best for everyone. It was a decision way over her head and she was happy not having to decide. 
> 
> Trev’s thoughts were fuzzy and the headache she had been nursing for the entire day had only gotten worse. So she headed to bed like she intended to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter for this instalment of the Cass/Trev adventures. There will be more coming soon via the Bad Things Happen prompts I've written for them so stay tune for those. Meanwhile I hope everyone enjoyed the story!
> 
> Commissioned art by [Naeviss](https://naeviss.tumblr.com/). Check out her [Tumblr](https://naeviss.tumblr.com/), [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/naevissl/?hl=en), [DeviantArt](https://www.deviantart.com/naeviss) and [Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/Naeviss/posts)

Trev stared at her bowl glumly, spoon swirling the gruel around and around. It was thin and lacking in anything but grain. She peered over the edges of the bowl to watch the others. Her head throbbed in time with her pulse. The day had been hard but no harder than the past week. But as pain got more manageable, the more aware she got of the whispers. 

“Miracle. Maker blessed. Andraste’s chosen.”

She couldn’t help but hunched deeper into herself at them. With the still looming threat of the Elder One and the more urgent one of finding a permanent shelter, she did not feel one bit favoured by the Maker or his bride. 

Her eyes couldn’t help but stray towards the tent the advisors had enclosed themselves in. Shadows alternated between diffused and sharp edged as the people walked towards or away from the light source inside. She could make out the fur ruff around Cullen’s shoulders, hands on his hips. Josephine and her tablet, her quill stabbing the air. Even Leliana’s hooded head that never see to move. But she didn’t see Cassandra’s hard armour and curt gestures. 

Trev sighed, bowl cradled loosely in her hands. Stresses were showing. Everyone’s endurance was tested. Sledges had been abandoned. Everyone had to walk or ride a horse now. And there weren’t many horses to go around. The paths were just too difficult. She, being the Herald, was forced to ride one. Still it was better than to walk. She didn’t think she’d last very long if she had to like the others. But every hitch in her mount’s step was a stab into her healing ribs. 

“Boss,” Bull called out. 

Her head jerked up, her body followed and she winced. He reached out to steady her, taking the bowl from her hands. “Got to be careful there, boss.”

“Yeah,” she gasped, pressed a hand against her side. Noisy shifted in her lap, meowing his displeasure at having his comfortable seat disturbed. 

“Be careful,” Dorian settled onto a log near the fire. “I didn’t expand all my effort healing for you to undo my work.”

“Not that you did much,” Trev pointed out. 

Dorian pressed a hand against his chest and looked affronted. “How ungrateful.”

She rubbed her eyes and put the half eaten bowl of soup down, shivering slightly. “You’re done with it?” Bull asked. 

Noisy shifted, his nose twitching but he wasn’t interested in it enough to get off her lap to investigate. 

“Not hungry.” Dorian peered at her, concern was written all over his face. But Trev waved him away. “I’m just tired.”

“You don’t look so good, boss,” Bull pointed out. 

Dorian nodded. “You do looking a little grey.”

“Nobody looks good,” she reminded them. “Not even you, Dorian.”

“Again with the blasphemy,” Dorian gasped. “Being the Maker’s blessed has gone to your head.”

She rolled her eyes and tried to get Noisy off her lap. But Noisy purred louder the moment, she tried to pick him up as if she was stroking him. “It’s late. It’s dark. Besides, you don’t have eyes like an elf.”

“I do,” Sera chirped up. “You look sick, yeah? Must be that ear of yours.”

Trev stiffened, hand immediately going to the numb edge of her ear, Noisy all but forgotten. She had borrowed a mirror from Vivienne when she didn’t feel like she was on the edge of death. The top part of her left ear was black and completely dead. It didn’t matter how much Vivienne tried to comfort her, or attempted to heal it. Nothing worked and it scared her. This wasn’t facing Corypheus when she was bolstered by adrenaline and the blade in her hand. This was insidious, this crept into her chest, squeezing her lungs when she least expect it. 

“Come on,” Dorian said. “Let me help you back to your tent.” 

Noisy meowed irritably as Sera scooped him out of Trev’s lap and hugged the cat close. “Kitty cat will keep me warm tonight,” she declared. “He’s mine now!”

Noisy was not having it, he twisted and struggled. Despite his apparent size, he was surprisingly smaller than one expected. He bolted off once he was free with Sera chasing after. Trev had her mouth half opened with a warning to leave him alone. But she clamped it shit, knowing it was going to fall on deaf ears anyway. She turned her attention to Dorian and shook her head. “I can make it on my own. Cassandra wanted me to move around more. Says it helps keep my muscle supple or some such.”

“She’s right,” Bull said in between slurps as he finished her leftovers. 

She shrugged, a half-hearted gesture, feeling too tired to engage. Step by step, she weaved her way through the camp towards her tent she shared with Cassandra. Her legs worked fine, her arms too. Even the Anchor was mostly quiet and calm though she kept the hand bandaged, unwilling to look at the swirling green slash that turned her life upside down. The frostbites on her fingers and toes were mostly healed up by now. It was the hole at her side and mending ribs bothering her. It’s infuriating how many muscles even the simplest things took. Undressing to use the makeshift privy was hell, turning from her back to her side in her cot was a nightmare, even merely standing up or sitting down was hard. Trev wasn’t exactly a lazy person, but she never wanted to stay still more. 

As she passed the advisors’ tent, she heard a familiar voice. 

“Enough!” Cassandra barked. “This is going nowhere. We need the scouts to venture out further. Assign them the supplies they need to do this. We’ll stay here till we have a clear direction. There is good hunting in this area and we’re near a water source. This is as good a place as any.”

Cassandra stomped outside, boots crunched snow and rocks underfoot, fuming. Even from a distance, Trev could see the frustration buzzing through the cold air. With the signature frown creasing Cassandra’s brow, she half expected to hear Cassandra’s grunt of displeasure as her steps slowed. But before she could headover, Leliana called out and sat beside Cassandra. Trev aborted the gesture. Cassandra didn’t need her hovering around, being a burden. The advisors were busy enough trying to decide what’s best for everyone. It was a decision way over her head and she was happy not having to decide. 

Trev’s thoughts were fuzzy and the headache she had been nursing for the entire day had only gotten worse. So she headed to bed like she intended to. Once inside, she shed the outer layers of her clothes and dropping them in a heap, already hearing Cassandra’s growl of annoyance in her head. Before long, she was burrowed under the blankets, missing both Noisy’s and Cassandra’s warmth. Her eyelids sagged shut as her hand worried at her ear. 

* * *

“Herald,” someone called. 

The title grated. But the voice was far away, sounding vaguely like Cassandra’s. Trev groaned and turned her face away. 

“Trev,” the voice called insistently. 

Her eyes peeled open reluctantly, making out the vague shape of Cassandra looming over to her, silhouetted against the light of a lamp behind her. _When was the lamp lit?_ Her brain felt like it was stuffed full of cotton. Thoughts were hard to gather and she was so cold. 

“Trev.”

“What?” the question came out all ragged and hoarse.The pounding in her head had worsened in her sleep. 

Cassandra didn’t reply, instead she pressed a hand against Trev’s forehead. She hissed at her ice cold touch. “You’re cold,” she complained, pulling her head away to no avail. 

“No, Trev. You’re running a fever.”

“Oh.” Her movements quietening.

She pushed herself up from the cot but her elbow wouldn’t lock and she fell back onto her back. A gasp escaped her lips as she pressed against her side, curling over the wound. Cassandra rubbed soothing circles over her back. When Trev came back to herself, she frowned at the empty tent. _Where did she go?_ There was nothing to do but to try and sleep it off. What could anyone do with a fever now? It’s too late to deal with it. There would be time to do so in the morning. 

* * *

It seemed but a moment ago she shut her eyes when a hand was shaking her awake again. Irritation flared. “What?”

She opened her eyes to find more than a person looking back at her. A familiar moustached face resolved from her blurry vision after a few blinks. 

“Trevelyan, how are you feeling?” It was Dorian. 

“What are you doing here?” Confusion was setting in. Then, fear shot through her. Her mouth ran dry. “Is it Corypheus? Is he back?” Her heart pounded so hard it felt her ribs was giving way again. She fought the layers of blankets. For once, the pain of her injuries far away as dread chilled her veins.

Cassandra who was hovering behind was immediately by her side. Hands clutched her shoulders. “No, no. It’s not.” 

Trev jerked her eyes to meet Cassandra’s. Steadfast conviction gleamed in them and it was the only thing that eased her fear. Her pulse slowed while Dorian and Cassandra exchanged a look.

It was then she noticed the tent wasn’t dark anymore. Bright morning sun was streaming in through the flaps. _Did I sleep?_ “What’s wrong then?” she asked, now more annoyed than anything else. Nobody spoke. Her eyes darted between them. Now that she was out from the blankets, she was feeling chilly again. Pulling the blankets around her shoulders, she ignored the pair in favour of studying the tent. Cassandra’s bedroll was neatly packed away. She had obviously rose earlier than Trev had, but that’s nothing unusual. 

Trev grunted, pressing her fingers against her temples. Sleep had only made everything worse. Her head still pounded, the chill set into her bones. And worse, Noisy was nowhere to be found. Maybe Sera had successfully persuaded him. Then, the tent flaps flipped opened, Solas and Stitches entered. This situation was getting out of hand. “Why are all of you here?” she demanded, voice raspy and dry. 

“Trev,” Cassandra called. Her head snapped over, eyes bright. “You’ve been sleeping for almost two days.”

“Two days? I thought…” Words failed her as her frown deepened. “It’s just a fever, isn’t it?”

Dorian shook his head. “I’m no healer but your wounds might be infected.”

Trev pressed a hand over her bandaged side. It felt fine before. Solas approached. “It’s your ear.”

She stiffened, hand going up to touch it. “Oh.”

If Cassandra’s hands weren’t still around her shoulders, she’d have slumped onto her back. Despite the anxiety creeping up her chest, in Cassandra’s solid grip, the feeling of security was undeniable. Her mouth opened and closed, the question refused to leave her lips. 

“What is it?” Dorian asked. 

“It’s the ear, Trev.” Cassandra was already answering her unspoken question, hand squeezing her shoulder in a semblance of comfort. “The blackened part will have to be removed.” 

she stiffened but sought confirmation from Solas and Stitches.

“It has to be done,” Solas said, his jaw set grimly. “It’s spreading towards the healthy part of your ear.”

Trev bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut. “Now?”

Stitches nodded. “The faster we do this, the better. The fever doesn’t bode well.”

For a moment nobody moved, nobody even spoke. Trev could feel dread squeezing her chest. She had no choice. If the blackened part was spreading poison into her, it had to go. But… fear seized her chest again. Her breath hitched and a bright green light pierced through the bandages on her left hand. The Anchor flaring to match her roiling emotions. Cassandra pulled her into a hug. “I’ll be here. You won’t do this alone.”

* * *

Solas, Dorian and Stitches were discussing among themselves while Trev looked increasingly distressed. Cassandra was at a loss. Normally when she was the one hurt, she bore her treatment with characteristic stoicism. It was what’s expected of her as a Seeker and the Right Hand of the Divine. But she never had to have parts of her body cut off voluntarily. 

She wasn’t the one hurt now, Trev was. A groan tugged her attention back to Trev. Her brown eyes shone fever bright as she tried to bury herself under the covers like all her troubles would go away if she hid from them.

Clearly, she needed to do something but what? It was times like this she hated her inability to give comfort through words. _Touch._ Where words failed her, actions always showed what was truly in her heart. Cassandra reached out, her hand burrowing under the blankets, seeking out Trev’s. She found it burningly hot, as if there was a small fire burning inside. Sluggish brown eyes found her as a sigh of relief escaped Trev’s lips. 

“Do we really have to do this?” she asked, her tone pleading, begging. 

Cassandra wasn’t too worried when she found Trev with a mild fever the previous night. She rose early and joined the hunting parties at dawn, returning to the camp to be informed by Leliana that they had agreed to stay put till they have more information. She was surprised when she sought out the others for a small mid day meal that Trev was nowhere to be found. It was after only an hour of questioning the guards posted at the camp borders that she thought to check the tent. 

Trev had still been sleeping. 

It must have been exhaustion. After all the journey had been hard on everyone, especially the wounded. And Trev had significantly worse ones. But when she thrashed about in her sleep, caught in the throes of a nightmare, Cassandra bent to shake her awake only to find fever hot skin. And that’s how things came to be what they were now. 

“We do,” Cassandra replied. There was no point mincing words, Trev didn’t need false hope. 

Something scrapped against the floor and Trev turned. It was a table, the same one they had used when Cassandra first brought her back to camp. Trev gulped and struggled to sit up, leaning heavily against Cassandra’s shoulder. To see Trev undone by this was hard, she was a figure of strength, a rally point of light who had faced down hordes of demons and abominations. She charged into battle without thought. And even when armed with a sword and no armour, she put the people of Haven first, offering up her life for theirs. Now, faced with her own wounds and the prospect of treatment, Trev was afraid. Cassandra wanted to fix it for Trev, if nothing else but to not see haunted glint in her eyes, to not see how nightmares had returned to plague her. 

“Ok, I can be brave for this. If I can stand against Corypheus, what’s a little cutting?” Trev laughed hysterically. 

“It will be fine.” Cassandra prayed she wasn’t lying. 

Stitches approached. “Your Holiness. Here’s sleeping draught. It will help you relax.”

“Will it put me to sleep?” Trev asked hopefully, eyes widening as she accepted the bottle. 

“It may. However, this isn’t made with herbs that’s usually available to me. But with luck, it will make you sleep.”

Trev drained the cup quickly as if it was salvation. Solas led her over to the table. She eased herself up. “Should I lie down?” her voice wavering and she grimaced. 

“Yes, it will be best.”

Cassandra stood helplessly as the others busied themselves preparing equipment, poultices and bandages for what was to happen. Trev laid on her back, working hard to breathe evenly, eyes shut. There was nothing she could do here. She’ll only be in the way so she turned to go. But as soon as her boots scuffed against the ground, she felt a tug against her arm. Turning back she found Trev’s imploring eyes looking at her. “Stay, please.”

The elastic band between them snapped them closer again. 

Cassandra looked at the others. Solas nodded. “If the draught doesn’t take, we’ll need you to help hold her down.”

Trev shuddered at Solas’ words. “Please,” she begged. 

Cassandra nodded, guilt welling up in her chest. _If only I had gotten to Trev earlier. If only, I’ve not left her alone._

* * *

Minutes passed, Trev was nowhere near sleepy. She was more keyed up if it was possible. In the end, Stitches declared. “The draught isn’t working.”

“Can I take another one?” Trev asked, her eyes darting between the mages and healer. 

Dorian shook his head, pressing an arm on her shoulder. “No, if it didn’t take, drinking more wouldn’t work.”

Trev’s jaw tightened. She took a deep breath and Cassandra could see a mask fell over her face. Even lying down on her back, she seemed to straighten, her shoulders set as fear was swiftly shoved under her mask. Calm, collected and confident, every bit the Herald she had seen Trev been these past months. “Ok,” Trev said, her voice steady. “Let’s do it.” 

“Please lay on your right side,” Stitches instructed. 

Trev shifted, turning towards Cassandra. She noticed the slight tremors in Trev’s hands. She took hold of them, squeezing them in her grip. Trev exhaled, a small breath of relief, her only concession to anxiety. Clanks of metal against metal rang out behind her. Cassandra wrapped an arm around her waist, rubbing her back as she kept a firm grip on Trev’s hands. “Just look at me. Keep your eyes on me. Don’t move, don’t turn. All you need to look at is me.”

The sharp smell of alcohol stung Cassandra’s nose as Stitches poured a clear liquid onto a cloth. As he wiped the entire left side of Trev’s face, even down her neck, it was like the facade she saw Trev put on earlier being taken apart piece by piece. Fear dilated her pupils, her eyes so clear, Cassandra could see herself reflected in them. 

Dorian came around to the end of the table and grabbed Trev’s legs. Solas pressed an arm against Trev’s back and neck. Stitches picked up a small sharp blade and passed it through a flame, allowing the metal to heat up. “I’m about to start, your holiness. I need you to stay as still as you can. Keep looking at the Seeker. I promise to do this as quickly as possible.”

“Ok,” the affirmative came out firm but Cassandra could see the effort it took. 

Cassandra tugged a leather strap from her packs. “Bite down on this,” she said. 

Trev opened her mouth to accept it, chest heaving in anticipation. Teeth tightened over strap, she nodded. 

If Cassandra could shut off her ears, she would. It was one thing to cut her foes down in battle, it was another to watch a friend suffer. As hot knife cut through flesh, Trev cried a muffled scream, biting down on the strap. She kept her word, despite how her muscles tightened, how much it was only natural to recoil from pain, she only jerked once at the initial cut. Eyes teared up but they were remained unwaveringly fastened on Cassandra’s. 

The stench of iron filled the tent as Stitches worked quickly. Cutting through dead flesh and then trim off a little more just to make sure he got it all. As soon as he stepped away, Solas took his place, holding his hands over Trev’s ear. A glow filled the space. What must have been mere minutes felt like hours. Trev’s stifled cries subsidised to soft whimpers before her eyes rolled back into her skull as she went completely limp. Worned out by the surgery, Trev slept but her grip was still tight around Cassandra’s hands. 

* * *

Her world returned in layers. Layers of sounds, muffled speech and pacing. An unmistakable sound of someone entering the tent and sitting down opposite her. And over all that was a vibration in the air, familiar and near. Layers of scent, smoke from cook fires and lamb being roasted. Trev’s stomach roiled at the thought of food. Layers of sensation, thick woollen blankets that kept her warm, her jaw ached as if she had been clenching it and a pounding in her head. But also, fur, nestled against her chest. It was a presence unseen but felt nonetheless. 

“Are you awake, Herald?” someone asked. 

It wasn’t Cassandra. The accent was different. 

She groaned and opened her eyes. The weight against her chest shifted and she came face to face with the back of Noisy’s head. It was only when the figure shifted nearer that she realised Mother Giselle was the one who spoke. Before she could find her voice to speak, she could hear a commotion outside. Cassandra’s voice rose and dipped, frustration lacing every word. Cullen’s, Josephine’s and Leliana’s voices were no less angry. What had been pressure mounting before had now boiled over. 

“You need to rest,” Mother Giselle coaxed. 

Trev propped herself up on an elbow. Her brow pinched as she listened. “I can’t just let them go on like this. How long has it been?”

“Hours,” Mother Giselle admitted. 

“I should get them to stop,” She sat up. Surprisingly, she found it was easier than she had expected. Or maybe the pain at her side was taken over by the one in her ear. “This can’t be good for morale.”

“Another heated voice wouldn’t help, your holiness. Not even yours,” Mother Giselle shook her head, handing her a cup of water. “Perhaps especially yours.”

Trev drank from it eagerly, finding herself completely parched. “I’m not going to tell them what to do, just… I just want them to stop fighting each other and work together instead.”

Mother Giselle mused as she stood to pull the tent flaps back. Her dark eyes gazed out at the arguing advisors. Trev got to her feet unsteadily, Noisy yowled irritably at her ingratitude as he found himself alone on the cot. She patted him affectionately and all was forgiven. She joined Mother Giselle, her eyes instantly sought Cassandra out. 

Her gestures were sharp and curt as she paced while Cullen matched her intensity but he stood stock still, emotions tightly reined in. Leliana had her hands folded across her chest while Josephine sighed and shook her head. To Trev’s eyes, it was all falling apart. 

They were falling apart. 

_I fucked this up too. I should have been faster, get to the Templars before the Elder One did. Maybe this could have all been over already with the Mages and Templars aiding us and I might already be on my way home now. But I’ve fucked this up too._

“Maybe you are what we need. A single symbol to galvanise us. The people saw the Herald fall in their darkest hour but you raise again,” Mother Giselle spoke. “The Maker works in mysterious ways after all.”

Trev winced, biting her tongue to hold back her retort. Instead, she scrubbed her face. “I don’t know about being the Herald or a symbol. I just thought it a fair trade to make. One for many.”

“Spoken like a true Herald of Andraste.”

She sighed. The Maker, Andraste, the Herald, all of this, was just over her head. Trev was never really a believer. She never gave it much thought. It was no different from a family custom. She went through the motions, sat in with her family for mass, listening to Chantry priests drone on and on. It was no different from the balls her father made her attend. A mere family custom but one shared by many others. So no, Mother Giselle’s talk of her being sent by Andraste was unnerving to say the least. 

_The Maker must be blind and Andraste must be desperate to pick me as her Herald._

“It doesn’t matter what I believe. Just what I do. Corypheus will come again, he won’t rest. He told me so,” Trev said, stepping out. “We can’t fight him like this.”

Her legs moved stiffly. The advisors had stopped shouting but they were still at odds. All of them sat in their corners as if resting before the next match. 

Trev spotted the others clustered around a nearby campfire. Sera leaning close against Blackwall as she whispered something appalling into his ear judging by his expression. The Chargers were warming themselves and sharing food. Varric was shuffling cards, handing them one by one to Cole who studied them intently. Vivienne still managed to look regal and poise in these circumstance, standing apart from the others. Solas, on the other hand, was nowhere to be seen.

Dorian’s face lit up when he saw her. Bull gave her a wave. Each of them greeted her in some manner. Even Cole, the strange boy, nodded at her. 

Moonlight shone bright in this cloudless night. Many were still up, holding out hands to fires, sharpening spears and swords, pressing their hands against wounds. Then, a clear voice sang. 

_Shadows fall  
And hope has fled  
Steel your heart  
The dawn will come_

Mother Giselle’s voice carried in the still chilled air. Trev stiffened. She could feel the eyes. One by one, everyone turned at her, to her. 

_The shepherd's lost  
And his home is far  
Keep to the stars  
The dawn will come_

A second voice joined Mother Giselle’s, one that’s clearer, brighter and trained. Leliana stood, head lifted and sang. One by one, voices joined in. Goosebumps prickled across Trev’s arms. Cassandra turned her head and their eyes met and her voice joined the others.

_The night is long  
And the path is dark  
Look to the sky  
For one day soon  
The dawn will come_

Trev shivered as the voices faded into the Frostbacks. The atmosphere had changed. What was once somber and hopeless, now seemed like a challenge that must be met because the Maker willed it. If that’s what helped the others endured a little longer, to preserve a little harder, she wasn’t about to take it away from them. 

“A word, Trevelyan,” Solas said as the song died away.

Trev followed him curiously. She couldn’t help clenched and unclenched her left hand, it always tingled a little more around Solas. It was probably something to do with magic. She swallowed a sigh. As much as she’d like to avoid it, she was intrinsically tied to magic now. It lived in her hand, sometimes it even felt like it fed off her energy. 

He led them to the edges of their makeshift camp. Holding a hand up, he created a wisp of Veilfire. It cast an eerie blue glow over everything. “How are you holding up?” he asked, tilting his head, observing her. 

“Groggy but I think I’m ok,” her hand reaching up to touch the heavy gauze around her head. 

“I’m glad,” Solas admitted. “I know we were never in the best of terms.” 

Trev grimaced, she knew it was her fault, her avoidance of Solas was in part due to him being a mage. But bonding with Dorian had made her less wary of mages in general, well until Solas aimed his magic her way. It still made her skin crawl despite it being for her own good . 

“But I respect you. And what you did at Haven is…” Solas went on, seemingly taking no notice of her expression.

“Out of character?” Trev finished for him. 

“Well, I won’t put it that way. Unexpected,” his chin lifted, his eyes narrowed, studying and evaluating. “After all, you were facing certain death.”

Trev felt like she had passed a test with Solas, but what it was she had no idea. She sighed. Nightmares were never a problem before the Conclave, now they were. The Elder One and his dragon was heavily featured in all the recent ones. She sighed, shoving them to the back of her mind. “What is it, Solas? Why are we here?”

Solas spoke, no he lectured, about the nature of the orb that Corypheus had. His voice cool and calm as he spoke about how unlocking it was what caused the explosion at the Conclave, and his fear of backlash on elves. They were all understandable concerns, but they had a far greater immediate need they had to see to. 

“We can’t address any of this from the side of a mountain. We need shelter. We need to rebuild,” Trev pointed out, her breath ghosting out in the chill air. 

“Yes, you’re right,” he said, his eyes flickering to her bandaged left hand. And a slight smile tugged at his lips. “That’s also something I can help with.”

* * *

They must have walked for days, Trev swore. Scouts were sent forth according to Solas’ directions. Her wounds had healed well by then, other than the occasional twinge and soreness. If it wasn’t for the angry red line on her skin, she couldn’t believe it herself. Her ear remained bandaged, Sera and Bull had poked fun at how she looked. She took it all in stride. 

Trev walked at the head of the column, climbing up a hill to look ahead. A restlessness took hold of her after the scouts reported finding the hidden refuge they were seeking. As she crested the bluff, the ancient stronghold loomed into view. Tall and imposing walls, stretching up as if holding up the sky, thick walls and solid fortification surrounded the keep. 

“This is Skyhold,” Solas said as he joined her. 

Her breath froze in her lungs as she stood stock still. “This will do just fine,” she whispered. To find Skyhold at the end of a long and hard journey that started in fire and destruction was a relief. For a moment, she couldn’t help but wonder if a greater power really had a hand in this. 

Solas strode ahead as she turned to look behind her. Despite the trail of survivors between them, Cassandra’s eyes met hers. Trev grinned. “We found it,” she said, in the still mountain air, her voice carried. 

And a cheer rang out, rippling down the column of survivors. 

Since her recovery, Trev had seen less and less of Cassandra, especially now that she somehow ended up leading all of them. Beyond sharing a tent, she barely had seen Cassandra. And they were all too exhausted beyond exchanging a few muttered words before sleep took them. There was a hollowness in her chest when she thought about it. But she had a job to do and too many people were counting on her, so she focused on that. 

But here and now, with the end in sight, Trev couldn’t help the giddy laugh that bubbled up her chest. She dashed down the hill towards Cassandra who was helping one of the wounded make the trek up. She pulled the man’s arm over her shoulder and flashed Cassandra a wide smile. “We found it,” she said breathlessly. 

“So I’ve heard,” Cassandra replied easily as they walked. 

The man heaved a sigh of relief. “Thank the Maker.”

As they walked on, surrounded by the survivors of Haven, Trev felt hopeful. “Maybe, we’ll have a chance after all,” she whispered. 

Cassandra’s eyes turned to seek hers, darting away to exchange a look with Leliana before flickering back to her. “With you, we will have a chance.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays everyone, I hope you all had an awesome day and a wonderful 2020 ahead!
> 
> Hit me up on my [Tumblr](https://natsora.tumblr.com/). Kudos and comments are always welcomed!

**Author's Note:**

> Hit me up on my [Tumblr](https://natsora.tumblr.com/). Kudos and comments are always welcomed!


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